Sofia blinked.
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. “I can’t do this.”
He turned and walked past her.
Not a glance or a goodbye — just silence and footsteps fading down the hall.
In the next hour, everything collapsed.
Guests murmured behind pews, the officiant cleared his throat awkwardly, and Sofia’s mother wept.
The flowers wilted in the sun.
And Sofia, still wearing the dress she had sewn her heart into, stood motionless while the world burned around her.
Grandma Nina sobbed uncontrollably, pleading for forgiveness, repeating, “I didn’t know, baby, I didn’t know,” over and over again.
