Face the truth

And then it happened. A gust of cold air swept through the vestibule, slamming the doors shut with a deafening bang. Shadows flickered at the edge of Hanna’s vision, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw a figure standing at the back of the room—a specter draped in white, its face twisted in pain and urgency. She blinked, and the figure disappeared.

The officiant turned toward me, urging me to confirm the vows, but I barely caught a glimpse of Edgar’s fleeting smile—too wide, too predatory. Panic coursed through my veins, igniting a fight-or-flight response. “I—” I began, but the word got stuck in my throat, as if Ashlee’s very essence was warning me to run.

Then, amidst the chaos, the lights flickered ominously, plunging the room into darkness and then back into light. The hum of the guests’ surprised murmurs filled the air as they reacted to the sudden blackout. Heart pounding, I looked back at Edgar, whose expression subtly shifted—a wicked flicker in the shadows. “Hanna,” a voice murmured… a voice that sounded exactly like Ashlee’s, her name suddenly tinged with threat. “Finish the vows. It will all be over soon.” I heard my twin sister’s voice as a whisper that filled me with calm and serenity.

And in that horrifying moment of realization, a chilling account of Ashlee’s silence unfurled in my mind. It couldn’t be true; I felt it was wrong. But Edgar’s eyes—those beautiful yet unsettling eyes—revealed a dark secret, though he couldn’t possibly know what had happened to Ashlee. Or did he?

As the last remnants of light faded, a shiver ran through my body as I instinctively stepped back. Whisperings of spectral pain echoed around me, urging me to pay attention to the truth. I turned, hoping to glimpse the figure I knew was Ashlee, the one who had just whispered in my right ear seconds before.

“Stay with me,” I whispered in a trembling voice, in the darkness of the grand hall. “Help me!”

But there was no answer—only the hollow echo of my sister’s absence, as panic tightened its grip on my heart. Something unforgivable had happened. And in the shadows, Edgar smiled—a predatory, victorious smile—as darkness enveloped the vestibule, hiding him in secrets that would soon turn deadly.

Determined to find out what had happened to Ashlee, I wouldn’t let this tragic experience slip through my hands. I would uncover the truth about Edgar and stop him before he could claim another life—if that was the last thing I did.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around as the guests began illuminating the altar with their phone lights directed at the bride and groom. I straightened my shoulders, gathering every ounce of courage as the reality of my sister’s fate loomed over me. The celebration couldn’t end like this. With or without Ashlee’s spirit guiding me, I would fight against Edgar’s diabolical intentions—or whoever the murderer of my sister was, or the beast… I cast a furtive glance at Jeremy, afraid that my boyfriend might recognize me, usurping my twin, and marrying another man.

After all, I was no longer just a sister; I was a storm gathering strength, ready to unleash its fury on the shadows that sought to erase my twin’s light forever.

The grand hall transformed into a macabre masquerade ball, with swirling costumes and flickering candlelights and cellphone screens. The guests' laughter danced alongside the unsettling whispers of the night. Soft music played—violins and a piano singing Debussy’s "Clair de Lune," its notes weaving through the air like a ghostly lullaby, masking the growing agitation inside me as I stood beside Edgar at the altar. The Halloween atmosphere was thick with unease; I felt ghosts and elves in vibrant costumes floating through the room, oblivious to the horrifying truth of the night. I knew it was a magical evening—just like Lucía, we had chosen that date for her wedding, on Halloween because it was the night they could feel the dead... and also our father.

As the officiant continued reciting the words that bound us in marriage, the sounds of clinking glasses and joyful cheers began to blend with my panic.

I could barely focus on the ceremony; my mind raced with thoughts about how Ashlee might have died and what had happened to my dear sister. Did it hurt her? Or was it quick?

The horror climaxed when we were asked to exchange rings—a symbol of a bond that felt anything but sacred. When Edgar extended his hand, his fingers brushed mine, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. For a brief moment, I felt a cold emanate from his touch, a premonition of horrors yet to come.

"Yes," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, but the words felt like shards of ice lodged deep in my throat. "I accept," I said aloud. Edgar’s triumphant smile widened as the officiant declared us husband and wife, sealing my fate with a gesture that felt both victorious and sinister.

The guests began to celebrate, smiling; our friends applauded, including my boyfriend Jeremy. Edgar stepped forward, and trembling and hesitant, I surrendered to Edgar’s lips. I thought of Jeremy—his kiss was fiery, passionate, almost voracious, as if no one had ever kissed me like that before. An unceasing warmth started to climb up my legs to my hips. I stared at Edgar, surprised, wondering if I had always kissed my sister that way, and to my astonishment, I felt a wave of jealousy, thinking of my kisses with Jeremy—always gentle and delicate compared to Edgar's lips.

All this time, I had thought I was the daring twin, but Edgar had just demonstrated with a kiss that he was the one in control of the relationship with Ashlee at that moment. I looked at him, bewildered, and he, smiling, took my waist and pulled me toward him while my hips seemed magnetized by his touch. "I love you," he whispered into my left ear, and kissed me again. This time, he held me in his arms and, with both hands, tilted me back, arching my back; I had to hold onto his neck to avoid falling. Completely disarmed, held by his arms, I felt possessed by a spirit as Edgar’s tongue entered my mouth. Meanwhile, the guests smiled and clapped, full of joy.

I held my breath, regained my composure, and left with my husband—and the ex-boyfriend of my twin sister—through the grand hall. My mother and Lucía’s friends approached to hug me. My mother looked at me intently, demanding an explanation.

"I need to talk to my husband," I replied to my mother’s questioning gaze.

"We’re waiting for you to start the dance with the newlyweds," said Dayana, Lucía’s best friend.

"Let’s go now," I excused myself, taking Edgar’s hand and walking out of the grand hall.

"Everything’s fine, little bunny," Edgar told me.

"We need to talk," I said, voice trembling and lips fixed on him, but for some reason, I was no longer afraid of him—just filled with curiosity and doubt. Before passing through the reception and starting the party, he led me to a connecting room adjacent to the main hall, where a huge library covered all the walls. I entered, and he closed the doors behind me. I decided it was time to talk to Edgar—alone—and face the truth.