It wasn’t her sister’s fault. Her mother chose not to give Lulu the full truth. After his death, they’d argued about it. Back then, Hena could hardly blame her mother. Lulu had been so young. But as the years went by and her mother refused to address the elephant in the room, Hena worried it would become a problem.
And it was a problem now, wasn’t it?
There was a knock on the door. The wedding planner popped her head in. It was time.
Hena helped her sister into the golden palanquin. Reza and the other groomsmen and relatives lifted it up, carrying it on their shoulders. Hena took a spare lit votive from Irum and slid into formation alongside the other bridesmaids and cousins. They entered the hall to a romantic Bollywood ballad; the guests clapped and cheered as Lulu was taken to the stage.
As Hena set her votive on the stage alongside the other bridesmaids, she spotted Reza off to the side.
“Thank you again,” she said, walking over to him. “For the flowers. The gift. It was the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”
“My pleasure. How’s your mother?”
Hena looked in her mother’s direction. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at her younger child.
“She’s better—” Hena began, but the weight of Khala’s words pressed against her.
It could be any day now.
Reza seemed to understand. Quietly, he reached for her hand. Gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a family hold it together like you all are.”
“Glad to hear it looks like we are. I guess there’s not really an alternative to keeping it together, considering it’s a wedding, right?”
“Maybe,” Reza said. “But you don’t have to hold it alone.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Just being honest. I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks,” she told him. “You look nice, by the way.”
An understatement if there ever was one. In his cream-colored sherwani with gold accents on the collar, he was perfect. Painfully so.
“As do you.” His dimple deepened. “But what else is new?”
Yeah?she wanted to say.Then why haven’t you done anything about it yet?
The music grew louder in the background. From the periphery, Hena saw the bridesmaids readying the henna to apply to Lulu’s hands. Already the crowd was lining up for the ritual.
Hena cleared her throat. Excused herself to help.
Get it together,she told herself as she walked away.
After the rituals concluded, friends and cousins of the bride and groom took to the dance floor for choreographed routines. The afternoon went smoothly. So smoothly that when the emcee announced the final slideshow before dinner, she was pleasantly surprised at how punctual they’d been. This was the first event of the week that had stayed perfectly on schedule.
She searched for Haris and spotted him sitting with his mother. It seemed like Auntie Nipa was keeping a tight watch on her son tonight, which meant Hena wouldn’t be able to sidebar with him quite yet, but they did need to talk. She was sure the piece of gossip Irum had shared—about Nasir wandering the streets of Las Olas—was baseless chatter. But given what Milcheck had said about Nasir’s phone pinging an hour south of the hotel, they needed to take it seriously.
“Hi, everyone,” Courtney said, taking the mic. “Thank you for your patience while we shuffled things around today. We are excited for the nikkah tomorrow, where Khaled and Lulu will finally make it official!”
The audience cheered, and Hena joined them in applause. Courtney held out the mic for Irum, but Irum’s eyes were fixed on her phone.
“Okaaaaay,” Courtney said slowly. She turned to the crowd. “Well, this has been such a fun week celebrating our bride and groom, but tonight we’re flipping the script. Khaled and Lulu put together something special—not about them, but about you. Thanking you for being part of their journey.”
The lights dimmed. The monitor hummed to life and music swelled through the hall as a video overlaid with nostalgic music played.
The first photo was of Khaled grinning toothlessly in front of a birthday cake with his parents. Khaled’s family clapped. They laughed at the other photos popping up. His parents inStar Wars outfits for Halloween alongside seven-year-old Khaled. His cousins and him in jerseys at a YMCA basketball game. His aunts and uncles at a reunion party.
Soon the photos shifted to Lulu’s side of the family. Khala’s eyes glistened as she looked at the photo of herself from twenty-one years earlier, gazing down at baby Lulu swaddled in pink. There was Hena, barely in the double digits, pushing Lulu’s stroller down their sun-drenched sidewalk. Her mother appeared on-screen next, regal in her sleeveless sari and smiling down at her beloved Lulu, then a toddler, tightly holding her hand.