The Wedding Party

Part 28: A Teapot

Helena pushed open the door to the Cove Globe office, a faint bell jingling overhead. The scent of ink and paper filled her nostrils as she scanned the room for a familiar face. Kristan Valencia, the editor, emerged from behind a towering stack of newspapers.

"Helena, what brings you here?" Kristan asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Hey, Kristan. I just need a back issue, if you don't mind," Helena replied, her eyes drawn to several papers on the counter. Each one featured stories about Bo Brandt, a notorious local criminal.

"Of course, which one do you need?" Kristan offered, oblivious to Helena's interest in the articles.

"Uh, June 2013's edition," Helena said, glancing back at the Brandt stories. "What's with all these articles?"

"Someone came in asking for everything we had on Brandt. I can't remember who, though," Kristan admitted, rubbing her temple. "Anyway, let me get that issue for you."

As Helena waited, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. She tucked the newspaper under her arm, thanked Kristan, and stepped outside. A sudden gust of wind nearly knocked her off balance, and she stumbled into Rapheal's path.

"Watch out!" Rapheal cried, grabbing her arm to steady her. In the chaos, Helena's scrapbook slipped from her grasp and landed in a muddy puddle.

"Damn it," she muttered, retrieving the soggy mess.

"Sorry, Helena. I didn't see you there," Rapheal apologized, genuine concern etched on his face.

"It's fine," she sighed, cradling the ruined scrapbook. "I'll see you back at the Manor."

-----

Olive's tear-streaked face appeared in the doorway of Preston's room. "Preston, I need to talk to you," she choked out.

"Olive, what's wrong?" Preston asked, his heart clenching at the sight of her distress.

"I saw... Darrell and Yusuf. Together. In the cellar, they were having sex!" she whispered, fresh tears spilling over.

"Are you sure?" Preston's voice wavered, struggling to comprehend her words.

"Positive," Olive replied, wiping her eyes. "I don't know what to do."

"Let's just focus on getting through the wedding, okay?" he suggested gently, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

As they hugged, Yusuf entered the room, arms laden with sweatshirts for the bridal party. Olive stiffened in Preston's arms but said nothing. Tess appeared next, ushering Olive away from the group and out onto the patio where Jairo was waiting.

"Guys, look at this," Tess gasped, pointing to the shattered remains of their mother's china strewn across the tiles.

"Who could've done this?" Jairo wondered aloud, anger flickering in his eyes.

"Amelia might know something," Olive suggested. She found Amelia sitting alone, her small hands clutching a tattered tarot card.

"Amelia, did you see who broke the china?" Olive asked, crouching down beside her.

"The spirits told me I won't be a flower girl in the wedding," Amelia murmured, lost in her own world. "They're angry."

"Sweetie, it's going to be okay," Olive reassured her, though the uncertainty gnawed at her insides.