“Wait,” Justin called out.
I froze as Mercy blinked up at the man she loved, and Emily went pale, the color draining from her face.
“Is something wrong?” Mercy asked, her voice soft, tentative.
“I can’t do this.”
There were gasps and murmurs in the pews, and I tugged at Justin’s shoulder. “Is this really the time?” I bit out.
“Now or never.” Justin shook his head, pushed off my grip, and looked at Mercy. “I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.” And then he looked toward the back of the long room and tugged at his tie.
“Nina. I can’t do this anymore.”
And then the wedding planner burst into tears as the groom ran from his bride down the aisle. As the two left, the silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife. And I felt as though I was having an out of body experience.
“Mercy,” I whispered as I looked over at her.
But she just shook her head at me. “Did you know?”
“No!” I practically shouted. “Shit. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Mercy?” a soft voice said from behind her, and we both looked to see Emily staggering toward us. Alarmed, I nearly cursed again at the gray pallor of her skin.
I was moving toward her without even thinking, arms outstretched. Because there was blood seeping from her nose, and when she coughed, blood sprayed over the white of Mercy’s dress.
“Emily!” Mercy cried out.
And as I caught Emily in my arms, taking her to the ground, the bride knelt beside me. We shouted for an ambulance, and people started screaming, pulling out their phones to call for someone or to record because that’s what people did.
But it was all I could do to hold the mirrored copy of the bride in my arms, as tears slid down Mercy’s cheeks.
All thoughts of a runaway groom and broken promises gone.
And I knew the nightmare was only just beginning.