When my dad told me he was marrying Dana, I swallowed my doubts and smiled. She was cold, always sidelining me, but I wanted to support him. Two weeks before the wedding, he called: “Dana says you should stay with us—no hotel.” Suspicious, but I agreed.

Friday night, I arrived. Dana handed me lukewarm tea, showed me to the guest room, and disappeared. My dad and I had a great evening reminiscing. I went to bed feeling hopeful. I woke up on the wedding day to silence. No phone. No keys. Front and back doors deadbolted. Windows locked. Then I saw it: a Post-it on the counter. Continues…