Chapter 2 - The Unraveling Lie
Saturday evening arrived.
I squeezed myself into a elegant, forest-green wrap dress—a dress I’d bought specifically to match the autumn vineyard palette my mother had dictated in her pre-party email blast. David looked dashing in his tailored suit.
Before leaving, I kissed Liam on the forehead. He was sitting on the living room rug, wearing a pair of green felt dragon wings he’d crafted himself out of felt and cardboard.
“Are you going to Grandma’s fancy party?” Liam asked, his eyes wide.
“We are, buddy,” I smiled, smoothing his soft hair. “You and Max get to have a pizza party with Miss Sarah tonight. Doesn't that sound fun?”
“Will Grandma bring me a dragon sticker?” he asked innocently. “She promised last week she’d find a giant dragon for me.”
A small prick of sadness hit my heart. “I’m sure she’ll think of you, sweetie. Have fun tonight. We’ll be home late.”
The drive up to Riverstone Vineyards took forty-five minutes. The estate was breathtaking—rolling hills lined with grapevines bathed in the golden, crimson light of the setting sun. Valet attendants in crisp uniforms greeted us at the arched cobblestone entrance. A violinist was playing softly near the foyer.
Everything looked immaculate. Exactly as Evelyn desired.
David took my hand as we walked past the grand main tasting room out onto the spacious back patio overlooking the valley.
And that was the exact second my heart stopped beating.
I froze mid-step. My breath hitched in my throat.
Set right in the middle of the courtyard, bathed in fairy lights, was a massive, elaborately decorated children’s table.
It was covered in brightly colored table runners, glittery confetti, and tiny custom place settings. In the corner of the patio sat a fully staged puppet theater. A performer dressed as a grand wizard was twisting colorful balloons into animal shapes for a crowd of giggling children. A sign on a nearby easel read: “Dragon Dreamers: Imagine, Create, Belong.” There were tables loaded with paint, glitter, toy dragons, and custom activity books.
Sitting at the table, laughing and eating slices of custom-ordered cake, were my nieces and nephews.
Chelsea’s twin daughters were there in matching lace dresses. My brother Chris’s eight-year-old son was running around with a balloon sword. Every single grandchild in the entire family was present, dressed up, and playing happily.
Except Liam. Except Max.
David’s hand went completely rigid in mine. I heard him draw in a sharp, furious breath beside me.
“Tell me I’m hallucinating,” David growled under his breath, his voice laced with venom. “Tell me that’s not a children’s party.”
I couldn't speak. The blood was rushing through my ears like a roaring river. The world around me seemed to tilt on its axis.
For one stupid, desperate second, my brain tried to make an excuse. Maybe this was a surprise organized by someone else? Maybe Mom changed her mind at the last second and tried to call me?
Then I saw my mother.
May you like
She was standing near the patio railing, wearing a dazzling sequined champagne dress, holding a glass of Pinot Noir, chatting effortlessly with a group of her friends. She looked radiant, triumphant—the perfect hostess.
I let go of David’s hand and walked straight toward her.
