THE SUBSTITUTE BRIDE

Three weeks before the wedding, Sophie met a man named Derek Malone at a bar in SoHo — a self-proclaimed independent music producer, handsome, smooth-talking, promising to whisk her away from the “hell marriage” our parents were forcing on her.

The night before the wedding, while the whole house buzzed with preparations, Sophie left a note on her vanity: “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry someone I’m afraid of.

Don’t look for me.”

Her suitcase was empty.

The small safe in her room was missing every piece of jewelry my mother had set aside as her dowry.

My father went pale, calling everyone he could think of, to no avail.

My mother sank onto the sofa, clutching her chest.

“Oh God, the Crosses are going to think we tricked them.

Richard, we still owe them on that refinancing loan — if they get angry and pull our credit line—”

“We’ll be bankrupt within a year,” my father said, his voice shaking.

They both turned to look at me at exactly the same moment — a look I knew far too well.

It was the look of people about to ask me, for the hundredth time, to sacrifice something for Sophie.

“Claire,” my mother said, her voice cracking, though her eyes had already finished calculating.

“You’re the only one who can save this family.”