Chapter 4

Sophie suddenly stopped.

The shyness, happiness, and sweetness on her face drained away in an instant like a receding tide. In their place was an expression I didn't recognize, one of utter coldness and disgust.

Derek still had his eyes closed, waiting for the kiss, and hadn't noticed anything was wrong.

"Baby?" He opened his eyes, puzzled.

Sophie looked at him, the corners of her mouth curling into an eerie smile.

She said nothing. Instead, she jerked her hands up, not to embrace him, but to shove him hard!

She put everything she had into that shove.

Derek was caught completely off guard. The edge of the stage had no railing, left off for the sake of appearances, so he staggered back several steps and his foot slipped.

"Aaah!"

A horrible scream.

Derek fell straight off the stage, which stood more than three feet high, and crashed down onto the table below that held the champagne tower.

Crash!

The sound of shattering glass rang through the entire hall, along with Derek's howls.

Champagne mixed with shards of glass instantly turned his expensive white tailcoat into a ruined mess, and blood ran down from his forehead.

A deathly silence fell over the room.

Everyone was stunned.

The music cut off abruptly. The emcee's mouth fell open, and his microphone dropped to the floor with a piercing screech of feedback.

The guests stared wide-eyed, as if they couldn't believe what was happening in front of them.

The bride... had pushed the groom off the stage?

"Derek! My boy!"

Below the stage, the old hag snapped out of her shock and let out a shriek like a pig at slaughter, rushing over to try to help up her son, who was covered in blood.

Derek clutched his lower back, rolling on the floor in agony. He pointed at Sophie on the stage and shouted, his voice shaking,

"Sophie! Have you... have you lost your mind? What are you doing?!"

Sophie stood at the edge of the stage, looking down at the battered, humiliated Derek.

Her makeup was still flawless, but her eyes had turned sharp as a blade.

She was no longer the meek little maid.

Unhurried, she bent down and pulled a black folder out from beneath the layers upon layers of her wedding gown.

"I haven't lost my mind."

Her voice carried through the microphone, which was still on, and reached clearly into every corner of the ballroom.

"Derek, I'm done putting on this act."

She raised the folder and slammed it down onto the stage. Papers scattered everywhere.

"Doesn't everyone think Derek is such a good, devoted man? Don't you all think I'm a kind little maid?"

Sophie pointed at the papers on the floor. Her voice suddenly rose, carrying a chill that made the scalp prickle:

"Then I invite you all to open your eyes and take a good look! See what these documents really say!"

The guests exchanged glances. A few of the more curious ones in the front row couldn't resist picking up some of the pages that had drifted to the floor.

When they saw what was written there, their faces went white in an instant, and they cried out in disbelief.

"Oh my God... this... this is..."

"Attempted murder?!"

"How is that possible?!"

The crowd erupted at once, like a bomb had been tossed into its midst!

I sat in my wheelchair, looking at Sophie on the stage.

In that moment, to my surprise, I saw in her eyes the same fire of hatred that burned in mine, a fire that had been burning for three whole years.