Diana, Blake, and I walk through the empty bungalow one last time. We donated our kitchenware and all the furniture to the same secondhand store where we bought it only a year ago. Despite the cramped space, it seems our footsteps echo off the empty rooms.

It’s been a week since I stood in the back of Liesa’s great room and my world collapsed around me. A busy week, but one I walked through on autopilot. We contacted the landlord and ended our lease of the bungalow. I helped Blake sell his car and we took care of payments and packing, arranging flights, and doing everything necessary to cancel our lives in Cayman and pick them up in New York.

“We had some good times here, huh?” Blake sounds as sad as I’d ever heard him.

“You make the best garlic shrimp I’ve ever eaten,” Diana says, sounding as low.

I clap my hands. “Okay, enough of this gloomy crap. We had a run of it. Some good, and it turned to shit. Time to move on to better things.” I’d give almost anything to collect our dowdy furniture and cracked dishes and return to the way it was before Zach blustered into our lives, before Liesa broke Blake’s heart, and before Diana had been attacked, back when we had high hopes and long days of sunshine.

I try again to hit a high note. “We’ve got plans. Blake is going to be a successful lawyer, and Diana and I are going to conquer the world of finance.”

Blake joins me in forced levity. “Nothing can stop us.”

Diana looks worried. It might take her a while to embrace a challenge. For now, she needs time to heal.

We file out, lock the front door, and stand on the cement slab. Our bags sit outside on the scruffy yard. Blake and I both have our large dive bags filled with gear. But we only have one bag each of the rest of our belongings.

Blake finally says, “One thing about us, we travel light.”

A black Lincoln pulls up in front of the house. I look at Blake. “I thought you called a taxi.”

He frowns at the car. “I did. Maybe they were all busy and the company sent this?”

The driver’s door opens and Mac pops out. “Good afternoon, Ms. Kylie. I’m here to collect you.”

Diana stares at Blake and me gives me a questioning look. I jump off the porch. “Mac! I’m glad to see you again before I leave the island.”

He flashes me a toothy grin. “It’s always a pleasure. You have not made it to my aunt’s fish house for conch fritters?”

An unexpected pang of regret hits me. So many things I’ll miss about the island. “I’m sorry I never did.”

He lets it roll off. “No problem. You will get ‘dere soon.”

I pick up my dive bag to haul it to the trunk. “Sorry to say I won’t make it. We’re flying out today and I doubt I’ll be back.”

Mac looks startled and he seems to take in the bags and Blake and Diana for the first time. “Oh?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? The taxi sent you to take us to the airport?”

He hesitates one second, then spins around to hurry to the back of the car and open the trunk. “Yes. Of course. Dat is it.” He reaches for my bag. “Let me take dat.”

I heft it up. “Got it. Can you help my friend with her bag?”

Blake already has his dive bag slung over a shoulder and his duffle in his grip. It takes only a couple of minutes to get everything in the trunk and Diana and Blake settle in back. I sit up front with Mac, same as last time. It’s become natural for me to ride on the left side while the driver sits on the right. When we get back to the states it’ll take an adjustment to drive on the right again.

“Are you still working for JK Investments?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming sadness at leaving our home.

“Oh yes. It is mostly good. I like driving Mrs. Knightly. ”

I watch out the window, trying to memorize the deep green of the mango trees, the flashing brilliance of the hibiscus, and the flaming bougainvillea. The dripping pods of the tropical vines. I’ll miss Cayman, the laughing local people, the steel drum bands, the conch fritters and fresh fish. How will I live without the ocean? How will I survive without Zach?

I rejoin our conversation. It sounds as if Mac had cut off his thought. “You like working for Mrs. Knightly, but not Jonas Knightly?”

Mac gives me an amused side-eye. “I did not say dat, Ms. Kylie.”

We hit a line of slow-moving cars backed up as far as we can see. Blake leans forward. “Do you know of any way around this? We don’t have a lot of time to spare for our flight.”

Mac rolls down his window and sticks his head out. “I guess it’s something happening on Frank Sound, maybe a sunset t’ing. There is only one way to the airport, sir. I’m sorry.”

My stomach starts that churn. No telling how long we’ll have to stay on the island if we miss our flight. It might be another week before we can book another one. We make slow progress.

Blake drums his fingers on the back of the seat. Diana stares at the ocean, an unreadable expression on her face. I wish I could keep her here to grow strong on the beach. She isn’t ready to tackle so much change. But I can’t stay and she can’t make it alone.

The sedan in front of us pulls to the side of the road and stops. Ahead of us, others in the line do the same. People—white, touristy-types—exit their cars and walk along the roadside. They’re dressed in island finery, which means clean shorts and sundresses, sandals instead of flip-flops.

Blake frowns. “Must be some kind of event, I guess. This is as close as they can park.”

Diana folds her arms. “Rich people. They want to have a party and they don’t care who they inconvenience.”

With cars pulling off, we make better progress, though it still might not get us to the airport in time.

I try to keep my focus toward the sea and the sun on its way to the horizon. But my gaze keeps creeping to the people walking at a good clip along the road. I recognize a few of them from Liesa’s Life and the awful engagement party.

Mac inches us closer to a pull-out on the beach side of the road. This is one of the nicest beaches on the island and usually not packed, since tourists tend to hang out on Seven Mile Beach. The small parking lot is full and a valet in white shirt and slacks stands in the entrance, directing drivers to park along the road. When he sees Mac, he grins and waves him in. Mac sticks his head out and the two exchange rapid Jamaican patios and laugh.

This isn’t right. Why would we pull off the road? My stomach does a loop and drops to my feet.

“Hey,” Blake perches on the edge of the backseat and leans close to Mac. “We need to get to the airport.”

Mac eases the black boat of a car into the one remaining empty spot, as if it was saved for us.

I spin to Mac. “You aren’t working for the taxi company, are you?”

Mac pretends not to hear either of us as he parks and shuts the engine off. He pulls the keys out and starts to open his door.

The well-dressed people stream through the lot on their way to the beach. Some of them pause to remove their sandals. Beyond the line of people, a tail of white satin brushes the blue sky. This is getting worse by the second. “Mac, what’s going on?”

He pulls himself out of the car and shuts the door, hurrying to my side of the car.

Blake’s hand clenches on the back of the car seat. He keeps his eyes on the swatch of white ribbon flapping in the breeze. “I don’t think we want to be here.”

Diana is studying the scene and she gasps at the same time Mac sweeps my door open. “It’s their fucking wedding.”

It can’t be. They’d only announced their engagement last week. And yet, that’s the same horrible conclusion I came to.

Mac grins at me. “As I said, I was sent to collect you.”

I plant myself solidly in the seat. “No. I’m not going to this.”

Blake’s breathing accelerates. “Get us out of here.”

Diana opens her car door. “I’m going. We’ve already missed our flight. I might as well see the spectacle.”

Mac reaches his hand inside as if to assist me. I fold my arms and lean away from him. “How could you do this?”

A cool voice floats over Mac’s shoulder. “Because he’s paid handsomely to do as he’s instructed.” Mrs. Knightly steps around Mac. “You’re still on the payroll, too. And your presence is required.”

Blake clamps a hand on my shoulder. “They don’t own you.”

Mrs. Knightly raises an eyebrow. “Oh, but we do. Until the season airs the finale.” She makes room for me to step out of the car.

Diana makes slow progress through the sand. If I’m going to support her until we can get jobs and get into school, I can’t afford to battle the Knightlys. I place my flip-flop clad feet on the parking lot and heave myself to stand, feeling all of my weight resisting the forward movement.

Blake jumps out of the back. He takes hold of my hand. “Don’t let them do this to you. Just walk away.”

I can’t tell Blake that even though I have to follow through with this because I’m taking care of Diana, it isn’t the real reason I’m allowing the Knightlys to put me through this. The real reason is that I have to see for myself. I need to watch Zach commit to Liesa and put an end to any fantasy I have that he really loves me. I suppose it’s the same way I needed to see Mom’s body after they’d whisked her out of the hospital room and left me with grief and paperwork.

I lower my eyes. Blake hesitates one second, then strides to the trunk, lifts the lid and drapes his dive bag over his shoulder. He grabs his duffle and without a word, marches away from the parking lot.

Mrs. Knightly regards the beach and brings her steely blue eyes to rest on me. “It’s nearly sunset. We need to stop lollygagging and be seated.”

Lollygagging, Mom’s favorite word coming from Mrs. Knightly almost makes me smile. I look down at my shorts and t-shirt. Well, if this is what they want, this is what they’ll get.

Mrs. Knightly assesses me. “Mac. You did bring the dress?”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am.”

She winds her hand in a hurry-up motion. “Then get it.” She eyes me critically. “You do own a brush? See that you arrange your hair in something less…chaotic.”

Mac rummages in the trunk and pulls out a dress shrouded in plastic. He hands it to me. “I’m sorry to say, you will have to change in da back. But the windows are tinted. It is private.”

I unzip the bag to a short, satiny white dress. “I can’t wear this. Only the bride can wear white.”

Mrs. Knightly purses her lips. “Even you know that. I tried to talk sense into Liesa but she insisted her maid of honor wear white.”

Maid of WHAT?!

“Oh, no. I’ll attend this fiasco, even let Bob zoom in on my horrified face, but there is no way in hell I’m going to be Liesa’s maid of honor.”

Mrs. Knightly flings open the back door of the car. “For heaven’s sake. Do we have to pull out the contract every two minutes? Change into the dress and do as you’re told.”

In a half hour this will all be over. I’ll rebook our flight and we’ll be on our way out of this nightmare. I throw myself into the backseat.

“Do not forget to do something about your hair.” Mrs. Knightly closes the door.

Mac stands guard while I strip off my clothes and slip into the satin dress. It fits perfectly, hugging my body and feeling like a cloud. I can’t imagine what Liesa will wear if my dress is so beautiful.

Liesa and I have never been friends on the show. We’d barely bumped up to it before the shower scene that ruined my life. Left up to her, she’d never choose me for maid of honor.

Did she have any say about her own wedding or was it dictated by Jonas and Jeri? How did they even fit that into the storyline?

I hate to break it to you, Mrs. Knightly, but I actually don’t have a brush, unless I want to rummage in my bag in the trunk and I don’t. I reach over the seat to grab a pen Mac had thrown on the dash. After finger combing my tangled hair, before plaiting it into a quick braid. Tying it off with a rubber band I find in the glove box, I give up. It will have to do.

When I re-emerge from the car, a thin line of blue separates the sun from the horizon. Mac spins around. “We need to—” He stares at me. “Ms. Kylie, you are lovely.”

Is it wrong I feel the slightest glow at his words? If I have to endure this torture, I hope Zach will feel a pang of regret for what he’s missing.

Mac holds his arm out to me to escort me to the beach. When we step off the parking lot, I pause and kick my flip-flops into the sand and let them stay where they land. Around a stand of mangroves I find where the white ribbon is anchored. Along with white flowers and enough yards of ribbon that would stretch to the moon and back, an arbor faces the ocean and the imminent sunset. Several rows of white wood folding chairs are filled with people in their colorful island wear. More people cluster, everyone talking and laughing.

Mrs. Knightly stands guard at the edge of the crowd and when she sees us, she gives my hair a quick survey before she nods and takes the arm of a straight-backed usher who walks her up the red-carpeted aisle to the front row. Jonas turns his dark-haired head to the side to speak to her, giving me a clear view of his bumpy nose.

I don’t see Zach, though I assume, with the sun so close to setting, he’ll be making his way to stand under the arbor and wait for his bride. The minister already takes his place facing the witnesses.

Mac hurries me to a small white tent off to the side. This must be where Liesa primps and primes herself for what will be a big television event. I don’t want to feel sympathy for her, but I can’t help realizing this is her wedding day and she probably didn’t have a say in anything.

Jeri stands outside the tent with iPad in hand. She flashes eyes at me that shout relief and irritation at the same time. She flips a portion of the tent flap and barks at Liesa. “Get out here now or we’re going to miss the sunset.”

Liesa steps out and I lose my breath. She wears a long, white sheath that seems like a waterfall on her thin frame. Flowers wind in her hair in a complicated updo that must have taken hours to concoct. A masterful makeup artist has taken her already pretty face and made her stunning. Zach would be stupid not to love her.

She fiddles to keep the dress from snagging on the tent as she steps through, and after getting situated, looks up to see me staring at her. Her mouth pops open in surprise.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

That answers whether Liesa wants me at her wedding.

Jeri jumps in before I can speak. “Last minute change of plans. It’ll play great.”

Liesa glares at me. “Damn it. After everything I went through to keep you away from all this.” Maybe it’s a trick of the light but for just a moment, her eyes look glassy and wet.

“Look, I—”

Jeri jerks my arm to get me moving toward the aisle. She shoves a bouquet of white roses in my hand. “We don’t have time for this and it’s not what I want on film anyway.”

Classic Beethoven rises on the breeze from a sound system someone fires up, and conversation settles. Jeri gives me a shove and turns to murmur to Liesa, probably giving her blocking directions. Bob appears in front of me, resting on one knee to capture the both of us making our way to the red carpet.

This is too much. I can walk right past the aisle they created between the rows of chairs and the standing crowd. Straight to the parking lot to follow Blake. But something makes me set myself on the path toward the arbor, all those smiling faces taking me in, waiting for the main event following behind me.

Zach stands in front but I can only see his arm because of the angle and the people between us. He can’t see me at all. My plan of making him want me instead of Liesa crumbled to dust the minute I saw how gorgeous she is. I only want to hide from him. But I’m committed now.

As my bare foot touches the carpet, the strains of the music change to the bridal procession and everyone stands. Behind me, Jeri lets out a string of cursing. She’ll be able to delete it later but she doesn’t mind the guests hearing her tirade about the idiot who started the procession too soon. Everyone knows the bridesmaids are supposed to be poised up front and all eyes focused on the bride. Maybe the sunset is speeding up the moment.

Standing bodies create a wall so Zach and I won’t face each other until I break through the opening of people, a few feet from the arbor. Each step brings me closer. I cringe at seeing him looking strong and sexy, not being able to tear his eyes away from his ravishing bride. And yet, I long to see him, to fill myself with even that small contact.

I know when Liesa steps into the aisle because a sigh rises from the crowd. She’s American royalty and today, she looks the part. I’m grateful no one will be paying attention to me as I take the last step to turn and stand opposite Zach and watch Liesa. I keep my head down but no matter how much I will it, I can’t keep myself from glancing through my lashes at Zach, before I turn my back to find my position.

He’s standing with a deep frown, probably nervous, maybe fed up with everyone else directing his wedding. But when he sees me, his eyes widen and his shoulders hitch as if he sucks in air. I only have time to register that his sister stands next to him. She reacts as he does, only I dimly hear her say, “What the fuck?”

When I reach the spot directly in front of Mrs. Knightly, I slowly pivot and focus on the end of the aisle, where Liesa will emerge soon. Again, I steal a glance at Zach, despite fighting with myself not to do it. He stares at me and it appears he hasn’t moved.

The white of Liesa’s satin-clad leg slides into view and I force my attention to see the rest of her appears from behind the standing people. She has her head turned to Zach but at his expression, she snaps it my way. I have no clue what’s going on in her head. She doesn’t have the glowing happiness of a bride, more like the defeated captain of the losing soccer team.

Alicia nudges Zach and he startles. She hits him again and he seems to roust himself, looking as if he doesn’t know where he is. Alicia leans in and whispers to him and he blinks. Liesa reaches out and takes his hand and their gaze locks on each other.

The minister starts speaking and everyone sits down. I’m barely aware of breathing or of standing, the soft feel of the dress against my skin or even the sun now dipping through the horizon. My ears pound as the minister drones on. It might go on for two minutes or two-hundred. All I know is that Zach, the one person in the world who could help me find joy again after Mom’s death, is forever closing the door on us.

Suddenly, behind me, a voice interrupts the service. “I have something to say.”

Mrs. Knightly stands, her lavender suit falling around her soft old-lady body. Jonas’s face has the look of someone careening down the world’s tallest mountain with no brakes. He snatches at his mother but she slips out of his way. She makes moves as if to walk to the arbor, but her heels sink in the sand and she loses her balance, falling forward. I jump in and catch her, righting her and helping to get her stable.

The minister looks puzzled. “Excuse me?”

She clutches my arm. “You said, if anyone has cause why this couple shouldn’t be joined together speak now. I’m speaking now.” She gathers herself and grumbles to me. “Help me up there.”

I don’t believe it, but I swear Liesa looks relieved. She drops Zach’s hand and steps back to make room for Mrs. Knightly.

Jonas jumps to his feet and springs forward. “Pardon me, Reverend. Mother’s had a long day and—”

Her arm flies up in the air before he can touch her. “Silence.” She points her finger at Jonas. “You. Sit down.”

She turns back to the minister but speaks loud enough everyone can hear. “For four years now, I’ve sat back and watched this poor girl get pushed and prodded and treated as if she were a prime heifer at market. Like the rest of you, my initial impression of her was that she is spoiled and over-indulged. But I was wrong and I ashamed to admit that I let this circus continue because it seemed to please my son.” She pauses and casts a loving look at Jonas. “And as we all know, mothers love to indulge their offspring.”

A slight chuckle titters through the crowd. Jonas fidgets and looks ready to bolt.

Jonas jumps up again but Mrs. Knightly holds her hand up to him and gives him a look I’m sure struck terror into his heart when he was young. He sinks to his chair, his face a mask of tension.

“Now, I know this show has been a goldmine for my son, but the vein has tapped out and the money he spent trying to recover America’s waning attention has used up whatever was made. Before this obsession of his starts to eat our fortune, I’m pulling the plug. Right here. Right now.”

Voices surge as people react. Jonas stares at his mother, his mouth wide open.

I can’t look at Zach. Now I know why Liesa looks relieved. She must have known Mrs. Knightly was going to cancel the show. Now she can start her life with Zach for real, with no cameras to interrupt their time together.

I want to be happy for Zach. But my heart aches for my loss.

Mrs. Knightly isn’t finished. “This has gone far enough. Marriage is sacred and he’s not simply creating entertainment, he’s trifling with hearts. Zachary doesn’t love Liesa, any more than Liesa loves him.”

What? She’d sure convinced me, not to mention America’s TV public. Zach gives Liesa a questioning look but she keeps her focus on Mrs. Knightly.

“You know I said I love to indulge my offspring. And I’ve gone overboard with my only son, Jonas. I think giving him everything he ever wanted ruined him. It might be too late, but I’m going to try to correct my error.”

She stops and great sadness drags the wrinkles around her face. “I won’t cut you off completely, so don’t worry about that. I’m going to allow you a small trust. I’m afraid it won’t do much more than provide a modest home and keep you from starving. Any more than that, you’ll have to find a way to earn.”

“But, Mother, I—.”

Again, her hand comes up to silence him. She turns her attention to me and a sparkle lights her blue eyes. She holds her hand out to me. “Kylie. I’ve been watching you. You’re bright and full of ambition. I believe you can do anything you set your sights on. So much like me when I was your age.”

My heart hammers in my chest. Like her. My grandmother I’ll never be able to claim.

She holds her other hand out to Liesa, creating a triangle. “And Liesa. No one could doubt your compassion and drive. You’ve worked tirelessly to dig your mother out of debt and more recently, you’ve shown you’re willingness to sacrifice your happiness to protect your sister.”

Sister?

Liesa slowly turns her head toward me as if afraid to look. Sister? I take in her blue eyes, her blonde hair. I’d never be that gorgeous, but I recognize some resemblance. A warm flood of something—relief, happiness, belonging, love?—fills me and the only move I can make is to reach out and clutch her hand, completing the circle.

Mrs. Knightly steps forward, pulling Liesa and forward, aiming her gaze at her son. “You didn’t think I’d know? That I wouldn’t take one look at her and recognize her for what she is? Who she is.”

I’m not sure who she’s talking about, Liesa or me and Jonas doesn’t either. He shakes his head, his face adopting that unhealthy shade of purple, his bug-eyed glare bouncing between us. “Mother, I don’t know what she told you but—”

Mrs. Knightly stops smiling. “Shut up, Jonas,” she says before dismissing him completely. “Everyone, I’m pleased to introduce my granddaughters.”

Liesa looks at me and her eyes sparkle. “I told you we were connected.”