I Crashed the Billionaire's Wedding With My Sister's Coffin

“I already told you—marrying Judith is just granting her a dying wish. Why are you so petty?”

I narrowed my eyes and studied Wilfred Sanchez's face.

Three years ago, he'd been hunted down and had barely half a breath left in him by the time he stumbled into the Blackthorn Highlands.

It was my sister's kindness that saved him.

And it was his promises of forever that made her leave the Highlands to marry him.

Too bad Wilfred Sanchez was worse than my brood.

Even my brood knew to be grateful for the hand that fed them.

In just three years, he'd already forgotten his vow to protect her for the rest of his life.

What was truly laughable, though?

He couldn't even tell my face from hers. He'd mistaken me for my sister.

The moment the guests heard the name “Maureen Manning,” understanding dawned across their faces, and just as quickly, it curdled into contempt.

“Oh, so it's her. No wonder she looks so backwoods.”

“She's from some village in the Highlands, what did you expect? Apparently the Sanchez family barely let her out of the house for three years. Too embarrassed to be seen with her.”

So this was what my sister's three years had looked like. Mocked and humiliated like this.

And she'd never once told me.

Every letter she sent only said the same things over and over: stop killing, stop doing terrible things.

I hadn't even opened my mouth when Judith beat me to it—her tears spilling first, right on cue.

She dropped to her knees with a thud, choking on sobs.

“Sister Maureen, I'm so sorry.”

“I really didn't mean to steal Wilfred from you. But my health is so poor, and the doctors say I don't have much time left.”

“All I wanted was one thing. To marry Wilfred and wear a wedding dress, just once.”

“Sister Maureen, if you need to blame someone, blame me. Don't blame Wilfred. It's my fault. My life was never meant to last. I never should have loved him with the time I had left.”

Wilfred's whole face crumpled with pity. He gathered her into his arms, cooing at her like she might break.

“You've done nothing wrong. She's the one who's petty, always bullying you.”

I looked down at Judith, kneeling on the ground.

The hatred inside me hit its peak, and instead, I smiled.

“You say you're dying.”

“Then why aren't you dead yet?”

The guests lost it. Every voice in the room came down on me at once.

“How can you be so vicious? Miss Henson is on her knees apologizing to you!”

“Exactly! The woman is dying, and you can't spare an ounce of sympathy?”

“No wonder Mr. Sanchez doesn't want her. Absolutely vile!”

I didn't expect those two sentences to enrage Wilfred.

He charged toward me, and his palm cracked across my face so hard it echoed, his voice a roar.

“Maureen, have you had enough?!”

“Judith's been nothing but good to you! You ate well, dressed well, lived under the Sanchez roof—what exactly did we owe you? You want to make a scene, go do it somewhere else. Don't you dare embarrass us here!”

Eating well. Dressing well.

I looked down at the coffin.

My sister's face was bruised purple. Every strand of hair gone. Not a single inch of her body left unbroken.

I nearly laughed.

“Eating well? Dressing well?”

Wilfred's expression went colder, as though every last shred of patience had left him.

“Maureen, you're revolting right now. You know that?”

“Judith's health is fragile. Forget showing any consideration. You actually hauled a coffin to her wedding to cause a scene. What exactly are you trying to do, drive her to her death?”

Before I could open my mouth, Judith was already walking over with reddened eyes, gently tugging at Wilfred's sleeve.

“Wilfred, don't blame Sister Maureen……”

“Maybe she just wants you so badly she can't help herself. That's all this is.”

She lowered her head and wiped her tears as she spoke, her voice so thin it trembled.

“It's all my fault. I shouldn't be alive. I shouldn't have come back……”