Chapter 7 - The Five Sisters
We walked past the stunned rows of tables toward the head terrace where my other five daughters—Maya, Chloe junior, Lily, Zoe, and little Hannah—were standing together in a tight, protective cluster.
When they saw us approaching, their worried expressions melted into bright, fierce smiles. Hannah, who had been just a toddler when her mother walked out fifteen years ago, sprinted forward and threw her arms around my waist, burying her face in my jacket.
“Dad! We did it!” Maya whispered, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she hugged Jessi around the neck. “Did you see the look on her face? She actually thought she could waltz in here and play the grieving mother.”
“She played her part,” Jessi smiled gently, kissing the top of Hannah’s head. “Now let’s get this wedding back on track. Mark is probably having a heart attack out in the foyer.”
True to form, Mark—radiant in his tuxedo and looking entirely relieved that the federal raid hadn't disrupted the catering—hurried down the aisle toward us.
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“Is the coast clear?” Mark asked, grinning broadly as he caught my eye. “Can we cut the cake now, or do we need to check if the frosting is under federal indictment too?”
The tension that had gripped the room instantly dissolved into uproarious laughter. The string quartet, taking their cue from the renewed energy, struck up a lively, celebratory waltz, and the guests slowly began to return to their seats, recognizing that the true family had survived its trial by fire.
