Before we reached the altar, my three-year-old grandson squeezed my hand and whispered, “Grandpa, she was mean to Mommy.” Then he pointed toward my future wife and pulled a USB drive from his tiny pocket—one that would soon reveal the truth she had been hiding.

My hand tightened around the phone.

“Did she drug you?”

Silence.

That was not what I expected.

Sofia whispered.

“I think so.”

My blood went cold.

“What?”

“She brought me tea.”

“After we argued.”

“She apologized.”

“I was stupid.”

“No.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I drank some.”

“Then I started getting dizzy.”

“My memory gets blurry after that.”

Rosa interrupted.

“We’re almost at the hospital.”

Good.

I said.

“Tell the doctors exactly that.”

“Everything.”

Sofia whispered.

“Dad.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t marry her.”

I looked at the wedding jacket hanging from the door.

“I won’t.”

PART 20