The hotel is filled with voices, lights, and clinking glasses. Meredith talks nonstop, gesturing with her hands as if the world revolves around her. “The wedding of the year,” she says. It all sounds empty to you.

You haven't been able to hide your annoyance for a while now. You're bored with every step of this “perfect wedding,” with every forced smile from your father, with every gesture from Meredith. You never liked her. Her perfume, her laugh, the way she says “Nick” in a sweet voice.

At least now you have your sisters. Hallie and Annie. Two halves of a story you never fully understood. You knew Annie existed, but having her there, in front of you, so similar and yet so different, still leaves you speechless.

And yet, even with both of them by your side, there's something inside you that remains empty. An absence that has always weighed heavily. A mother who never came. A letter that never arrived.

Chessy always filled that space. With her tight hugs, her infectious laughter, and her freshly baked cookies. But no matter how much love she gave you, there were nights when the silence hurt more than anything.

So when you get on the elevator that afternoon, you just want to escape everything. Meredith, the photographers, the noise. You press the button for your floor and sigh, exhausted. But then, just as the doors begin to close, you see her.

On the other side of the hallway, a woman stands motionless. Blonde hair, serene gaze, light dress. Her eyes meet yours. And the world stops.

Your chest tightens, as if you recognize something impossible. A scent, a voice, a memory you shouldn't have. Before the elevator doors close completely, you say it. Barely a whisper, trembling:

“Mom…”

The elevator goes up. You feel like you can’t breathe. When the doors open, you walk straight to your room. Everything inside you is racing, chaotic.

You open the door. Chessy is on the sofa, holding a glass of lemonade, looking like she’s been thinking a lot. She looks up, smiles when she sees you, but then immediately frowns.

“Hey, honey, what’s up?” she says, in that warm, slightly rushed tone that only she has. “You have that ‘I swallowed a huge secret and I don’t know if I should tell anyone’ look on your face.”

You stand in the doorway, motionless. You can’t speak. Your lips tremble.

Chessy sits up, puts the glass on the table. “Pumpkin… everything okay, honey?”