He knew there was more beneath that answer.
Mara knew too.
She crossed her arms.
“So you just let me stand here looking stupid?”
That sentence silenced the nearest tables.
I stared at her.
For several seconds, I genuinely did not know how to respond.
“You gave me the microphone,” I finally said.
“I was joking.”
“You wanted me to fail.”
“Oh, please.”
“Mara,” Daniel said quietly.
She spun toward him.
“What? Everybody is acting like I committed a crime.
I asked her to sing at a wedding.”
“You told everyone she couldn’t.”
“It was teasing.”
“You called her an amateur in front of two hundred people.”
Mara laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“And now everyone knows I was wrong.
Congratulations.
Can we move on?”
I might have done exactly that.
Then one of the bridesmaids spoke.
“She planned it.”
Mara turned.
The bridesmaid was named Sophie.
She had barely spoken to me all evening.
“What?” Mara asked.
Sophie looked uncomfortable.
“The singing thing.
She planned it.”
Mara’s expression hardened.
“Sophie.”
“You told us at brunch yesterday.
You said you were going to make Lena sing something impossible because Daniel’s family kept talking about her voice.”
The room had become painfully quiet again.
Another bridesmaid looked at the floor.
Daniel’s face changed.
This was no longer a joke that had gotten out of hand.
It had been prepared.
He looked at his wife.
“You planned this yesterday?”
Mara’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
“Sophie is exaggerating.”
“I’m not,” Sophie said.
“Stay out of it.”
“You said the video would be funny.”
Mara’s eyes flashed toward the camera.
There it was: the second piece of evidence, and this one had nothing to do with my career.
I suddenly felt exhausted.
Not triumphant.
Just tired.
Daniel walked several steps away from Mara and rubbed a hand across his face.
His mother approached him, but he shook his head gently, asking for space.
