Claire’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m trying to stop you from making a mistake, Ally.”

“So say what you think.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

I pointed at the door. “Then leave.”

She did it.

And those were the last words I spoke to my sister while she was still alive to answer me.

My wedding day began under a radiant sun.

The church was fragrant with lilies and candle wax. Ryan waited at the altar, calm and serene. Afterwards, everyone drove to the restaurant downtown for the reception.

I glanced towards the entrance, but Claire never came. I tried calling her several times, but I went straight to her voicemail.

My father insisted that she was upset and that she would eventually calm down. My mother told me not to let her ruin my day. So I smiled at my cousins, thanked people for the gifts, and pretended my stomach wasn’t growing.

An hour passed. Then my mother’s phone rang.

She listened for a few seconds before turning pale and putting a hand to her mouth. “There was a crash,” she murmured.

For a second, no one seemed able to move. Then chairs moved back, car keys appeared, and suddenly we were all rushing outside before the roll call was even completely over.

The rain started to fall during the journey. A driving rain streaked across the road, turning the headlights into blurry trails.

The rescue teams were still working when we arrived. Flashlights swept the riverbank. Mud had soaked the hem of my wedding dress.

Claire had taken a different route, a shortcut along the river. Her car went off the road and ended up in the water.

The next day, her body was found, and instead of a honeymoon, there was a funeral. Black dresses. Dishes piled high on the counters. You could hear: “She knew you loved her,” with that terrible, bittersweet certainty you use when you have nothing interesting to say.

And all this time, one thought kept nagging at me.

Claire was trying to tell me something.

A week later, Ryan left for work. Twenty minutes after he left, my phone rang.

“Megan?” I replied, surprised.

Megan was Claire’s best friend at work, a woman I had only met twice but whom I immediately liked because she spoke to Claire without flinching.

Her voice was tense. “Alice, I need you to come to the office immediately.”

“For what?”

“She left you a phone number. And a note. They were on my desk. I just got back from my sick grandfather’s house this morning and found them. Come immediately.”