Outside the banquet hall, Roberta's face flashed past the doorway, twisted with venom at having failed. I didn't spare her a glance.
The wedding ended.
I had just started toward my room to change out of the gown when someone pressed a cloth over my nose and mouth. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and let it happen.
Just like last time.
Roberta and Clay stumbled together, tangled in each other, and crashed through the door of a neighboring guest room. They fell onto the bed, unable to contain the sounds spilling between them.
My eyes snapped open. I moved fast, slipping downstairs to where my in-laws were still chatting with guests.
This time, I didn't do what I'd done before. I didn't blurt out that Roberta had drugged me and crawled into my husband's bed.
Instead, I put on a look of concern.
"Mom, Dad, I think Clay had too much to drink. He doesn't seem well."
Julia and Garry Vance, ever doting on their son, were on their feet in an instant. A swarm of Vance relatives, eager for any bit of excitement, followed close behind as I led them all upstairs.
The moment we reached the guest room door, the sounds from inside were unmistakable.
Every face in the crowd went rigid.
They rushed to block the door, to cover it up, but I was faster. I pushed it wide open.
"Clay? Are you feeling okay?"
The door swung back. The two figures tangled on the bed sprang apart, scrambling to yank the sheets over themselves.
Through the wall of stunned relatives, Roberta caught my eye and flashed me a triumphant smile.
The hallway erupted.
"Oh my God, that woman. Isn't that the makeup artist from this morning?"
"So Lydia was telling the truth the whole time. I can't believe..."
Garry's face turned a deep, furious red. "Clay! Look at what you've done!"
Julia charged past everyone and seized Roberta by the arm, dragging her off the bed. "This is all your doing! You little tramp, you must have slipped my son something. You made him think you were Lydia!"
"Son, that's what happened, right? We're calling the police! We'll throw this tramp in jail!"
The moment those words left his mother's mouth, Roberta's bravado crumbled. Her eyes welled with tears, and she shrank into Clay's arms.
"Enough!"
Clay roared, shielding Roberta with his entire body.
He lifted his head and looked at me through the crowd.
His eyes were dark, impenetrable. Not a flicker of panic. Not a trace of guilt.
"Lydia, let's talk."