The gardens had never looked more beautiful.

White roses cascaded from every arch, and the scent of fresh blooms hung in the air, soft and intoxicating.

The guests were arriving, the staff bustling in a carefully choreographed dance, ensuring everything was perfect.

Annabelle took a deep breath as she watched through the window from the dressing room.

Her mother, always the picture of grace, was chatting quietly with Cathy outside, both glowing in the sunshine, the fabric of her mother’s dress shimmering like a soft peach.

Annabelle felt a pang of warmth as she looked at them a sense of peace settling over her. This was supposed to be one...