The officiant had barely lifted his hand for silence when Sophie Carter broke away from the second row.

Gerald Foss didn't sit down.

He stood at the edge of the fountain with his hands clasped in front of him, and he spoke carefully, the way people speak when they are choosing every word.

"Ryan is the executor of his father's estate," he said.

"His father passed eight months ago."

Amanda waited.

"The will has a condition.

A specific one." Gerald paused.

"Ryan inherits the full estate — the property, the investments, the business holdings — only if he is legally married before the first of next month."

Sophie said, "What?"

"His father had concerns about Ryan's — reliability.

His history.

The condition was meant to encourage stability." Gerald looked at Amanda.

"The estate is worth approximately four million dollars."

The fountain kept running.

"He needed a wife," Amanda said.

Not a question.

"He needed a legal marriage on record before the deadline.

Yes."

"And Melissa is still his legal wife," Sophie said slowly.

"So he couldn't use her."

"Correct.

A marriage to you today would have been bigamy.

It would also have been fraudulent for the purposes of the inheritance." Gerald's voice remained even.

"I don't believe Ryan thought through all of the legal exposure.

But I've been watching him work toward this for months, and I couldn't sit in that chair and say nothing."

Amanda looked at him.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I knew his father.

Robert Blake was a decent man who built something real.

He didn't deserve to have his estate taken through fraud." Gerald held her gaze.

"And you didn't deserve what was done to you today."

He reached into his jacket and produced a folded set of papers.

"This is a copy of the relevant section of the will.

The condition is clearly stated." He held it out.

"I'd suggest you speak to your own attorney."

Amanda took the papers.

Melissa had been listening from two feet away.

Her face had gone very still.

"Four million dollars," she said quietly.

"And he called me Thursday to tell me he still loved me."

"He needed you not to show up today," Gerald said.

"If you had stayed home, the marriage would have gone through.

He would have had his inheritance.

And he would have dealt with the rest later."

"Dealt with," Sophie repeated.

"Meaning what?"

Gerald didn't answer that directly.

"Meaning Ryan has a pattern of managing situations after the fact."

Amanda unfolded the papers.

She read the condition once.

Then again.

Ryan's voice came from behind her.

"Gerald."

The attorney turned.

Ryan was standing at the entrance to the courtyard.

His jacket was off now, his sleeves rolled up.

He looked at Gerald the way someone looks at a problem they hadn't accounted for.

"You had no right to share those documents."

"They're a matter of estate record," Gerald said calmly.

"And I'm no longer your father's attorney.

I'm a guest who witnessed a fraud attempt."

Ryan's eyes moved to Amanda.

Something shifted in them — the calculation she had seen earlier, sharper now.

"Amanda.

Everything Gerald just told you is technically accurate.

But it's not the whole picture."

"Then give me the whole picture," she said.

"My father's condition was unreasonable.

I've been fighting it legally for months.

This —" he gestured at the empty chairs, the scattered flowers — "this was not about money.

I love you.

The deadline just —"

"Made it convenient," Melissa said.

Ryan looked at her.

"You called me Thursday," Melissa said.

"You told me you loved me.

You told me the wedding was a mistake.

You needed me calm and at home so I wouldn't do exactly what I did today." She took one step toward him.

"How much of it was real, Ryan?

Any of it?

Ever?"

He said nothing.

Daniel looked up from the phone.

He looked at his father.

Then he looked back down.

"I want to talk to you alone," Ryan said to Amanda.

"Just give me ten minutes.

Please."

Amanda looked at the papers in her hand.

Then at Melissa.

Then at Sophie.

"No," she said.

"Amanda—"

"I said no." She folded the papers.

"I think you should go."

Ryan's expression hardened.

His voice dropped low enough that only the people nearest to him could hear.

"You have no idea what you're throwing away.

And when the estate goes to litigation and gets tied up for years, don't come looking for sympathy."

Claire stepped out from the doorway of the tasting room.

She had her camera raised.

The red recording light was on.

Ryan saw it.

His mouth closed.

He looked around the courtyard — at Gerald, at Melissa, at Sophie, at Claire and her camera, at the handful of guests still lingering near the entrance.

His groomsmen had gone.

His mother had not come out of the main building.

He picked up his jacket from the chair where he had left it.

He walked out of the courtyard without another word.

Sophie watched him go.

Then she turned to Claire.