The bride’s gaze met mine, and in that instant, it felt as if the floor beneath me had disappeared.
Of course, logic fought its way through the haze. Emily had died. I had seen her in the hospital, held her hand as it grew cold. This woman couldn’t be her.
But the resemblance was staggering—down to the smallest detail, even the dimple that appeared when she gave a hesitant smile.
My heart raced. I wanted to shout, to demand answers, but I couldn’t move.
The bride quickly looked away, blinking back what seemed like tears, before turning to Daniel and nodding faintly. The priest continued as though nothing unusual had happened.
