Chapter 4

The Rittenhouse private dining room felt cold, despite the fireplace.

My parents sat stiffly, avoiding my eyes. Mark's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, regarded me with undisguised disapproval.

Jessica was there, of course, seated next to Mark, looking demure in a navy dress.

"Sarah, dear," my mother began, her voice strained. "We were all so... disappointed. Such a beautiful wedding planned."

"A lot of money wasted," Mr. Hamilton added, his tone sharp.

"We just think," Mark' s mother chimed in, her smile not reaching her eyes, "that perhaps, with a little time, once things calm down, we can talk about... rescheduling."

Rescheduling? Were they insane?

Jessica chose that moment to present her "peace offering."

A large, elaborate cake. Three tiers, covered in bright blue frosting, with intricate sugar flowers.

"I baked it myself," Jessica said, beaming at me. "A symbol of new beginnings."

My stomach dropped.

That specific shade of blue. Food coloring number 5.

The one my doctor had identified just last month after a terrifying allergic reaction.

A new allergy, severe and sudden. I' d told Mark. I' d even told Jessica, casually, when she' d asked why I wasn' t eating the blue cupcakes at her gallery opening.

She knew.

"Thank you, Jessica," I managed, my throat tightening. "It's... very blue."

She smiled sweetly. "It's my favorite color."

Mark was already cutting a large slice. "Here, Sarah, you first."

He held the plate out to me.

"I, uh, I can't," I said, my voice thin.

"Don't be rude, Sarah," my father said, frowning.

"She' s just being difficult again," Mr. Hamilton muttered.

Jessica' s eyes gleamed.

To avoid a bigger scene, to just get through this, I took the smallest bite.

Instantly, my tongue tingled. A rash started to creep up my neck.

My breath hitched.

"Are you okay, dear?" Mrs. Hamilton asked, though she looked more annoyed than concerned.

I stood up, knocking my chair slightly.

The commotion caused the small cake table beside Jessica to wobble.

A tier of the bright blue cake slid off, splattering icing all over Jessica's navy dress.

"Oh!" Jessica cried out, jumping back.

Mark was immediately at her side, dabbing at her dress with a napkin, fussing over her.

"Are you alright, Jess? Clumsy table!"

He didn't even look at me.

I was struggling to breathe, the rash spreading to my face.

I needed my EpiPen. Now.