I stood up and walked slowly toward the stage. My mother turned pale, gesturing threateningly for me to sit. But I had already grabbed the microphone.

“I have one final gift for the happy couple,” I announced. My voice was terrifyingly calm.

Bella clapped excitedly: “Is it the honeymoon tickets to Bali, Elena?”

I opened the manila envelope and pulled out a thick stack of papers. “This isn’t money. This is a subpoena.”

The ballroom fell into a silence so deep you could hear a clock tick. I tossed the papers onto the five-tier wedding cake table. “All this luxury—the flowers, the Vera Wang dress, even the wine you’re drinking—was paid for with over $600,000 stolen from my personal accounts.