Milan
By ten thirty that morning, my sister was a bride. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, with loose curls around her face. Her makeup looked soft and perfect, and tiny crystals sparkled at the corners of her eyes.
China looked beautiful. I hated her. The two feelings were completely separate.
“You’re staring at me,” she said.
I looked away from the mirror.
“I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“How much you look like Mama.”
China’s smile disappeared.
She touched the diamond pendant around her neck.
“It was hers.”
I recognized it. Mama wore that necklace every Sunday for as long as I could remember. I hadn’t seen it since before I was arrested.
“Daddy gave it to me after she died,” China said.
I nodded. A sharp pain went through my chest.
Our mother had been gone for three years. She had a massive heart attack while she was standing in the kitchen. China was with her.
I was sitting in the prison library when an officer came to tell me. They wouldn’t let me go to the funeral. China got Mama’s necklace.
They gave me a chaplain and forty-five minutes alone in a counseling room.
I reached for the pendant, but China grabbed my hand. She moved quickly, almost as if she was trying to protect something.
We both glanced down at her fingers still wrapped around my wrist.
She let go right away.
“Sorry, I just don’t want to get makeup on it.”
I dropped my hand.
“Of course.”
China turned back to the mirror. I stared at the necklace. It was just one more thing she had because I wasn’t there.
I wondered how many parts of my life had been split up while I was locked away. No one kept anything in case I returned.
I was still alive, but my family had divided my things as if I were already gone.
“Milan?”
I looked over at China.
“What?”
“You spaced out for a second.”
“I’m here.”
She met my eyes in the mirror.
“I wish Mama could see us.”
I didn’t say anything. China swallowed hard.
“She’d be happy you came.”
That made me laugh. China frowned.
“What?”
“Mama would’ve slapped you.”
The room around us seemed to quiet even though nobody actually stopped talking.
China turned in the chair.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“For what?”
I looked at her. China held my gaze for three seconds before looking away. She knew exactly what I meant.
“Milan, I’m not doing this today.”
“Then don’t.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
She stood up. The makeup artist glanced between us before suddenly becoming fascinated with reorganizing her brushes. China lowered her voice.
“You said you were okay.”
“I am.”
“This doesn’t feel like you're okay.”
“That sounds like something you should discuss with a therapist.”
Her jaw tightened.
“You came here angry.”
I gave her a small smile.
“No, China. I came here free.”
Before she could respond, Sierra burst through the bedroom door carrying a bottle of champagne.
“Who wants mimosas?”
The tension faded as the bridesmaids started shouting and laughing. China watched me for a moment, then smiled. Instantly, she was the bride again. I smiled back, stepping into my role as maid of honor. Pretending came naturally to us. Maybe it always had.
For the next hour, I sat getting my hair done while women I hardly knew chatted about relationships, kids, vacations, and work.
No one brought up prison. But I could tell they wanted to. Every time the room went quiet, I saw it in their eyes.
Eventually, Sierra worked up the courage.
“So, Milan.”
China looked at her immediately.
“Sierra.”
“What? I was just going to ask how long Milan is staying.”
Sierra looked at me.
“How long are you staying?”
I smiled.
“Not long.”
“How long is not long?”
“Until I finish what I came here to do.”
China looked at me in the mirror. I met her gaze. Sierra started laughing.
“That sounded ominous as hell.”
“It did, didn’t it?”
I laughed along with her. China stayed quiet.
Malcolm called at eleven forty-three.
China put him on speaker while the hairstylist worked on a bridesmaid.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey.”
I could tell right away that Malcolm sounded tense. China didn’t notice.
“Did you get the cuff links?”
“Yeah.”
“And your dad has the rings?”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you sound weird?”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
Malcolm was quiet.
Then he asked, “Is Milan with you?”
The room kept moving. No one else noticed, but I did. China glanced at me.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“What is she doing?”
I smiled. China frowned.
“Getting ready.”
“Has she been with you all morning?”
My pulse stayed calm, but I saw China’s face shift.
“Why?”
“Just answer me.”
“No, she came over around eight something.”
Malcolm fell quiet. I could almost hear his thoughts.
China stood.
“What's going on?”
“Nothing babe.”
“Malcolm.”
“I'll call you back.”
“Don’t hang up on me.”
“I said I'll call you back.”
China looked at her phone and stared.
“What the hell?”
I checked my reflection. My curls looked perfect, so I reached up and fixed one.
“He’s probably nervous.”
China looked at me.
“He asked about you.”
“So, what that mean?”
“Why would he ask if you were here all morning?”
I shrugged.
“Maybe he’s obsessed with me.”
China stayed serious, but I laughed. Just then, someone knocked on the suite door. A bridesmaid went to open it.
A hotel employee was waiting outside. He whispered something, and the bridesmaid’s expression shifted.
“What?”
China turned.
“What happened?”
The employee looked into the room.
“I apologize, but there has been an incident in the hotel.”
Everyone fell silent. China got up.
“What kind of incident?”
“I don’t have all the information.”
Sierra set her champagne glass down.
“Is there a fire?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then what happened?”
The employee paused.
“Police are on the sixth floor.”
My heart thumped once, slow and satisfied. China glanced at me. I widened my eyes.
“Police?”
The employee nodded.
“We are asking guests to avoid that floor until further notice.”
China grabbed her phone.
“Why would police be here?”
No one replied. I already knew. I sat quietly as the room buzzed with guesses. A fight. A medical emergency. Someone joked that maybe a guest had died. I almost smiled.
China called Malcolm again. No answer. She called twice.
“Why isn’t he answering?”
I stood.
“China, relax.”
“I’m relaxed.”
“You don’t look relaxed.”
She glared at me.
“Don’t start.”
“I was only trying to help.”
“Then stop.”
I lifted my hands in surrender. China walked to the window and tried calling Malcolm again. It went straight to voicemail. I watched her.
Malcolm knew. Maybe he didn’t know everything yet, but he knew enough.
That was good. I wanted him to be afraid. My phone buzzed.
It was a text from Malcolm.
COME TO MY ROOM.
I stared at the message.
Another message popped up.
NOW.
I smiled.
China turned away from the window.
“Who's that?”
I locked my screen.
“Nobody.”
She looked at my phone, then at me.
“Was that Malcolm?”
That was interesting.
“Why would Malcolm be texting me?”
“I don’t know. Was it?”
I smiled.
“No.”
China watched me for a few seconds. Then Sierra called her over to see something on the photographer’s camera.
I slipped my phone into my custom robe pocket that matched the pajamas China had us wearing. Malcolm was in room 731.
I had already planned to find him.
It seemed he wanted to make things easier. I waited seven minutes before standing up.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
China pointed toward the bedroom.
“There’s one in there.”
“It’s a number two.”
Three bridesmaids groaned. Sierra laughed.
“Thank you for sharing.”
“I figured you would appreciate the honesty.”
China rolled her eyes.
“Go.”
I left the suite. As soon as the door shut behind me, my smile faded.
I went down one floor by the stairs. The seventh-floor hallway was quiet. Room 731 was near the end. Before I could knock, the door opened. Malcolm grabbed my arm and pulled me in.
He slammed the door.
“What the hell did you do?”
I looked down at his hand.
“Get your fucking hands off me.”
“Milan.”
“Now!”
He released me. I rubbed my arm. Malcolm walked away. He was still wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. His wedding suit hung near the window. Six hours away from the ceremony. He looked terrified. I loved that for him.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing.”
“Warren is dead.”
I widened my eyes.
“What?”
Malcolm stared at me.
“He was murdered.”
I covered my mouth. I almost impressed myself.
“Oh my God.”
“Stop the bullshit.”
“Malcolm, what are you talking about?”
“He's dead, Milan.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“He was stabbed.”
I let my hand fall.
“That’s terrible.”
His face twisted.
“You think this is funny?”
“No, I don't”
“You hated him.”
“I hated a lot of people.”
His expression shifted. He knew exactly what I meant. Malcolm stepped closer.
“Where were you this morning?”
“In my room.”
“You told China you went walking.”
“That was last night.”
“Where were you between seven and eight?”
I cocked my head.
“Why?”
“Because Warren died sometime this morning.”
“You seem to know a lot.”
“The police questioned me.”
“Why?”
Malcolm paused. I smiled.
“Interesting.”
“They're questioning everyone who knew him.”
“Did you tell them you paid him twenty thousand dollars to frame me?”
The color drained from his face. For the first time since I entered the room, Malcolm stopped moving.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Milan.”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
He stared at me. I moved a little closer.
“That’s all I was worth?”
“Who told you?”
I smiled.
“You did.”
He frowned.
“Just now.”
Malcolm realized what he’d done. He glanced at the door.
Then he looked back at me.
“I never said I paid him.”
“You didn't have to.”
“Milan, listen to me.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what happened.”
“Then explain it.”
He ran his hands over his face.
“It got out of control.”
I let out a short laugh.
“Six years in prison got out of control?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then tell me what you meant.”
Malcolm looked at the floor. I waited.
“Jeremy was going to ruin everything.”
When he said it, the truth just sounded ordinary.
“Everything?”
“The company. The developments and the investors. Everything we built.”
“What were you doing?”
He didn’t answer.
“Stealing?”
His jaw tightened.