On my wedding day, my younger sister threw champagne in my face, smashed red velvet cake into my white dress, and screamed that I didn’t “get to win this time.” Then my mother rushed past me to comfort her while my father looked away. Two hundred guests watched me stand there alone, covered in red frosting—but what my family didn’t know was that two weeks earlier, I had discovered something that changed exactly what I planned to do next...

At the head table, Mark and I sat side by side, flanked by our parents and the bridal party. Lily sat two seats down from me, already working on her third glass of sparkling wine, occasionally leaning across the table to whisper something to Kyle, who had somehow managed to snag an invitation despite Mark’s earlier warnings.

The dinner service was a blur of polite small talk and clinking silverware. My mother kept dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief, telling anyone within earshot how deeply emotional she was to see her two wonderful daughters sharing such a magical day.

“Grace has always been the rock,” Mom announced loudly to the table next to us. “And Lily is our little free spirit. They balance each other out so perfectly.”

I cut a piece of roasted chicken on my plate without eating it. My stomach felt hollow, lined with cold lead.

Then came the speeches.

Dad stood up first, tapping his knife against a water glass until the room quieted down. He delivered a rambling, sentimental toast about family values, sacrifice, and how proud he was to welcome Mark into our fold as a son. Everyone clapped politely.

Next was Mark’s best friend from college, who stumbled through a series of mildly inappropriate fraternity jokes that made my mother frown and my father chuckle awkwardly.

Finally, it was the maid of honor’s turn.

Lily stood up, swaying ever so slightly on her heels. She grabbed the wireless microphone from the stand, tapping the metal grille with her fingernail until a sharp feedback squeal made half the room wince.

“Testing, testing,” Lily giggled into the mic, her words slightly slurred. “Is this thing on? Great.”

She turned her gaze toward the head table, locking eyes with me. Her expression wasn't sweet or sisterly; it was hard, glazed with alcohol, and dripping with a venom she had kept pent-up for months.

“Well,” Lily began, her voice echoing loudly across the cavernous ballroom. “To my sister Grace. The perfect bride. The perfect daughter. The perfect employee. The perfect everything.”

A few guests chuckled uncertainly, unsure whether she was joking or launching into a passive-aggressive rant.

Mom shifted uncomfortably in her seat and murmured, “Lily, honey, keep it sweet.”

Lily ignored our mother entirely, her eyes narrowing as she stepped out from behind her chair and walked closer to our table.

“You know, it must be exhausting being you, Grace,” Lily continued, her voice rising in volume and sharpness. “Always doing the right thing. Always following the rules. Always saving everyone else’s skin, while making the rest of us look like absolute crap by comparison.”

The room went dead silent. The waiters carrying trays of dessert stopped moving. The clinking of forks against plates ceased completely. Two hundred pairs of eyes shifted back and forth between Lily and me.

Mark went completely rigid beside me, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his napkin.

“Lily, that’s enough,” Dad barked from the end of the table, his face flushing dark red with embarrassment. “Sit down and hand over the microphone.”

Lily whipped around to face our father, her lip curling in defiance. “No, Dad! For once in my life, I’m not going to sit down just because it makes you uncomfortable! Everyone here worships the ground Grace walks on. They think she’s a saint!”

She turned back to me, taking two aggressive steps forward until she was standing right beside my chair.

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you, Grace?” Lily spat out, her voice trembling with drunken fury. “Your perfect job. Your perfect apartment. And now, your perfect husband.”

My heart didn't even accelerate. It beat with a cold, rhythmic certainty. I knew exactly what she was referencing, and I knew how close she was to the edge.

“You think you deserve all this,” Lily hissed, her chest heaving. “Well, guess what, Gracie? You don’t win this time. You don’t get to have it all.”

Before anyone at the head table could react, Lily’s arm flashed outward.