"Did Imogen feed you well?" Ruelle looked up and found her father's attention on her. He said, "You should eat more. Your wedding gown will not fit properly otherwise."
The concern in his voice sat oddly with her. It made the food in front of her harder to swallow. It was a performance to show they were the perfect family, but there was no one here to watch it. Yet her parents kept pretending.
With only a bite of food, Ruelle had poured herself a glass of wine and taken small sips along with Hailey. The bitter warmth sat easier in her throat than the food.
"Speaking of the wedding," Mrs. Belmont said, cutting through her husband's words. "We need clothes. It is too near now and nothing has been prepared." She turned to Ruelle. "I was thinking we should place our orders where you had your gowns made. The courthouse is paying for it all, after all."
Mrs. Belmont's eyes then moved to Harold and she asked, "What do you think?"
