Delt lyd

Amara is trembling under her veil, her hands shaking so hard she can barely hold her phone hidden in her bouquet. She types, *"I can’t do this. I’m at the altar, help me! The back gate, now!"* She hits send and sees the "Delivered" checkmark. Seconds later, a reply: *"I don't know who this is, but I've been looking for a reason to ruin this family's day. Look for the black SUV. Don't look back." But to understand how she got here, we have to go back to the beginning. The wedding march plays li