At nine the next morning, I acted as though nothing had happened. I hugged my bridesmaids, let them fuss over my hair, and handed Simone a small velvet box. “You’re in charge of the rings,” I told her, smiling. She squeezed my hand. “I’ll guard them with my life.” The box held two cheap rings from a costume shop. The real ones were in Danny’s jacket pocket.

My dress had been moved at dawn to Maeve’s suite, under lock. At the ceremony, when the officiant asked for the rings, Simone patted her pockets and gasped dramatically. “Oh no. I think I lost them.” A murmur ran through the guests. Declan didn’t even blink. He reached into his own pocket, pulled out his phone, and said calmly, “Funny. That’s exactly what you planned last night.”