Chapter 5 - Passwords and Lockouts
At six o'clock on the morning of my wedding, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I answered on the first vibration, my heart pounding before I even cleared my throat.
"Bonnie? It’s Lena."
"What happened?" I asked instantly, sitting up in bed.
"The DJ called me twenty minutes ago," Lena said, her tone a mix of exasperation and professional triumph. "At 5:30 AM, someone called his mobile number pretending to be you. They said the bride had lost her voice and asked to submit an emergency audio file for the father-daughter dance."
I gripped the bedsheet. "What was the file?"
"He didn't open it yet, but the caller claimed it was an edited version of Heartland’s 'I Loved Her First' with a special voiceover message from the bride's father to his daughters. The DJ asked for the verbal security passcode. The caller hesitated, guessed 'CarterWedding2024', then tried 'BonnieAndDaniel'. When the DJ told her those were incorrect, the caller started screaming at him, claiming she was the mother of the bride and that he was going to be fired."
"My mother," I whispered.
"Your mother," Lena confirmed. "The DJ hung up, blocked the number, and forwarded the audio file directly to my email. I just listened to it, Bonnie. It’s Dad speaking over the music for sixty seconds, followed by an ultrasound heartbeat, followed by a voice recording of Chloe screaming: 'It’s a boy!'"
A wave of nausea washed over me, immediately followed by a cold, crystalline calm. They had actually done it. Even after the confrontation at the rehearsal dinner, even after the cancellation of the smoke cannons, they had cooked up an alternate route to hijack my father-daughter dance.
"Lena," I said quietly. "Are the security guards confirmed?"
"Two guards from Citadel Security will be on-site starting at 2:00 PM. One at the main guest entrance, one patrolling the ballroom and staging areas. They have the guest list, and they have clear instructions."
"Add three specific names to the alert list," I said. "Robert Carter, Eleanor Carter, Chloe Carter. Tell security they are permitted to attend the ceremony and the dinner. But if any of them approaches the DJ booth, attempts to pick up a microphone, or brings unapproved props or boxes onto the floor, they are to be removed immediately without asking my permission."
"Understood," Lena said. "And the father-daughter dance? Do you still want to do it?"
I looked at the sunrise creeping through the bedroom window. For months, I had imagined dancing with my dad to the song he used to play in his truck when I was six years old. I had imagined him smiling, whispering that he was proud of me.
That man didn't exist anymore. Perhaps he never had.
"Cut the father-daughter dance," I said, my voice steady. "Remove it from the timeline entirely. Daniel and his mother will do their dance, and then we go straight into open floor."
May you like
"Consider it done," Lena replied. "Go get your hair done, Bonnie. You're getting married today. Let me handle the wolves."
I set the phone down and looked at my reflection in the vanity mirror. My eyes were clear. The grief was still there, lurking in the shadows, but the hesitation was gone. They wanted a show. But they were forgetting that I was an event producer. I controlled the stage.
