Through the wall, another woman asked, “What happens if Olivia finds out?”
“She won’t,” Vanessa replied. “She never realizes anything until it’s already too late.”
A wave of anger rose through me so suddenly that I nearly stood up and marched into their room.
Instead, I noticed the voice-recording application on my phone.
My hand trembled as I pressed the button.
I moved closer to the connecting door, holding the phone near the narrow gap beneath it. The women were loud enough that I could hear them without straining.
For the next four minutes, they discussed everything.
Vanessa planned to spill red wine across the front of my dress during the morning photographs. Kendra was supposed to create a distraction while another bridesmaid misplaced the wedding rings. Vanessa would then offer to help me calm down, making herself appear indispensable while I panicked.
The final part of the plan was worse.
