Chapter 2: Trapped Bride, Haunted Past

I dreamed I was back at my wedding, three years ago.

Guests filled the church hall, glasses clinking.

Mason recited his loving vows: “I, Mason Hale, take you, Lila Grant, as my wife. Whether rich or poor, in good times or bad, never to be apart.”

Then it was my turn.

With everyone watching, I clamped my mouth shut.

Inside, I chanted: “Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.”

Mason grabbed my shoulders, his eyes going cold and vicious. “Lila, say your vows. Once you do, we’ll never be apart.”

I shook off his hand, jumped off the stage, and ran for my life.

Behind me, the crowd erupted—shouting, screaming.

“Catch her!”

I felt someone tug at my clothes.

I opened my eyes. A woman’s face slowly came into focus.

She looked familiar. I squinted, trying to remember.

Then I remembered—she was the figure I’d seen at the door when the old man was beating me.

She looked about my age, the first woman I’d seen in Maple Hollow.

She brought me a bowl of chicken noodle soup. “Eat something. Today’s your big day.”

Steam rose from the bowl. It smelled like home. My hands shook as I gripped the ceramic, heat seeping into my frozen fingers. For a moment, I almost felt safe.

“Today?”

So I’d been out for a whole day and night.

“Oh, right. You can call me Daisy,” she said.