I forced the corners of my mouth upward. It wasn’t a smile; it was a baring of teeth.

“To the happy couple,” I whispered, my voice lost in the din.

I looked at the groom, Rafie. He sat beside Aribba, but he looked like a man awaiting execution. He was wealthy, successful, the CEO of a tech firm that was reshaping the city. He should have been on top of the world. Instead, he looked gray. His eyes were hollow, darting around the room with the frantic energy of a trapped animal. He didn’t laugh at their jokes. He stared at his plate, his knuckles white as he gripped the table edge.

He was the prize my sister had won, but he looked like a man who had lost everything.

As the laughter died down and the waiters brought out the second course, I felt a shift in the air. Aribba was glowing, feeding off the attention, but Rafie was fading.

I squeezed Mina’s hand back. Hold on, I thought. Just hold on.

Because while they were laughing, I was watching. And what I saw in the groom’s eyes wasn’t love. It was terror.