They say blood is thicker than water, but nobody tells you what happens when that blood turns into poison. My sister was moments from saying “I do” when my son tearfully said we should leave. I didn’t understand what was wrong until he showed me something that brought the whole church to a standstill.
I’m Kylie, 35, a small-town mom.
Lily, my younger sister, always had a knack for stealing the spotlight. And maybe she didn’t mean to, but when our parents looked at her, they saw perfection. When they looked at me… well, they saw what was left.
Still, I was happy for her. She was marrying Adam — the golden son of our town’s mayor, and honestly, a decent guy. I helped plan it all. The dress, the flowers, the guest list… every detail had my touch.
Fast forward to the big day, I smoothed down the front of my satin dress, the one I’d spent too much money on because Lily insisted all family members coordinate with her wedding colors. My son Matt fidgeted beside me in his little suit, already tugging at the bow tie I’d spent 20 minutes getting just right.
“Mom, how much longer? Is Dad coming?” he whispered, his legs swinging beneath the pew.
“Soon, sweetheart.” I checked my phone again. No messages from my husband Josh about when he’d arrive. That “client emergency” this morning had been convenient. But I’d learned long ago not to question his last-minute work excuses.
The string quartet began playing Pachelbel’s Canon, and everyone stood as Lily appeared at the entrance. She was resplendent in her custom gown with the cathedral train I’d helped her pick out, despite wincing at the price tag.
Her smile was radiant as she locked eyes with Adam waiting at the altar.
My parents beamed from the front row, my mother dabbing at her eyes. Their golden child was having her golden day. I was happy for her, truly. Despite everything—the childhood competitions, subtle favoritism, and the way she could do no wrong… I loved my sister.
The ceremony progressed, sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, casting rainbow patterns across the floor. Matt had settled, seemingly mesmerized by the spectacle.
Suddenly, his small hand clutched mine with an urgency that made me turn. His face had gone pale and his eyes were misty.