Before my sister’s wedding, I noticed my credit card was charged for the entire reception. When I confronted her, she smirked and said, “You’re a loser who doesn’t even have a family. It’s the least you can do.” I just smiled and replied, “Then you’ll love what happens next.” The next morning, my phone exploded with calls and messages. The venue, the bill, everything was a—

Chapter 4: The Cancelled Wedding

Saturday morning arrived.

I was sitting in the First-Class lounge at Sea-Tac airport, sipping a perfectly mixed Margarita. Through the massive glass windows, I watched planes taking off into the cloudy sky. My phone rested on the table next to my drink.

At exactly 9:15 AM, the phone began to vibrate.

It buzzed against the table like an angry, trapped insect. The caller ID flashed: MOM.

I let it ring.

It stopped, then immediately started again. MOM.

Then it was MELISSA. Then DAD. Then MOM again.

Within ten minutes, I had fifteen missed calls and a barrage of text messages flooding my notification screen. The preview snippets told the entire, glorious story.

Mom: RACHEL PICK UP THE PHONE NOW!
Melissa: Where are you?! The hotel manager says your card bounced!
Mom: They locked the ballroom! The caterers are packing up! Fix this!

I took another slow sip of my Margarita, savoring the tang of the lime. I waited until the phone rang for the twenty-sixth time.

I picked it up and hit answer.

“Hello?” I said cheerfully.

“RACHEL! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!” My mother’s voice was a shrill, hysterical shriek. The acoustics in the background sounded like a cavernous, marble lobby. The Four Seasons.

“I’m at the airport, Mom,” I said calmly. “I’m going on vacation.”

“The hotel manager is standing right here!” my mother screamed, her panic palpable. “He says your card was reported for fraud! The bank pulled the $43,000 back this morning! They have padlocked the doors to the Grand Ballroom! They won’t let the florist in! Call the bank and unfreeze it right now!”