Hanabi stepped onto the stage.
My parents’ adopted daughter. The girl who called me big sister. The one who cried in my arms when men hurt her. The one who said, Brother-in-law is family. Don’t be weird.
She wore white.
Of course she did.
Gusion dropped to one knee.
Right there. In a hospital filled with dying children. In front of donors and doctors and cameras. In front of my daughter.
“Will you marry me?” he asked softly. “Please say yes, baby.”
Hanabi covered her mouth, tears spilling. She nodded again and again. “Yes. Yes, I will. I love you.”
Applause thundered.
My parents stood. Clapped. Smiled.
Phones lifted. Videos recorded. A proposal turned into a headline.
The ring slid onto her finger. A diamond so large it caught the lights and fractured them into something blinding.
Something inside my chest split open and never closed.
Nana tugged my dress, bouncing. “Mommy, Daddy is proposing! Auntie Hanabi is going to be a princess!” She looked up at me, confused. “Is it her birthday too?”
I couldn’t answer.
My lungs refused to work. My vision tunneled. The room tilted like I was about to collapse right there on hospital marble.
Then my mother saw me.
Her clapping slowed. Her smile faltered.
One by one, faces turned.
Whispers crawled across the ballroom.
I stood there holding a child’s hand, surrounded by sick children and false saints, while my husband pledged forever to another woman under a banner about the future.
Gusion finally turned.
Our eyes met.
There was no panic. No guilt. No shame.
Just that familiar irritation. Like I was a stain on a perfect picture. Like I had chosen the worst possible moment to exist.
Hanabi noticed me then.
Instead of shame, she looked… annoyed. Like I’d interrupted her moment.
Gusion let out a long breath and crossed his arms. “Miya,” he said calmly, “can we not do this here?”
My hands were shaking. “Do what?” I asked, “What exactly am I doing wrong right now?”
He sighed again, louder this time. “Please don’t turn this into a whole thing. Nana’s here. People are watching.”
“A whole thing?” I laughed, but it came out wrong. Broken. “You proposed to her. In front of my family. On my child’s birthday!"
He rubbed his forehead like I was giving him a headache. “You’re overreacting. You always do this. Everything becomes dramatic with you.”
Something inside me cracked.
I didn’t even remember lifting my hand.