Colton did not shout. He walked around the table, past the frozen guests, and stopped beside me. Then he took the cloth napkin from his own jacket pocket and, very gently, began wiping the frosting from my eyes so I could see. The room was dead silent now. No one was laughing anymore. He handed me a glass of water, waited until I had steadied myself, and only then did he turn to face Wes, who was still grinning like he had pulled off the joke of the century.

“You want everyone to laugh,” Colton said, his voice calm and carrying across the entire hall. “So let’s make sure they have the full picture.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. “Because three weeks ago, Wes, you sent me a text I don’t think my sister has seen.” Wes’s grin vanished. He took a step forward, reaching for the phone, but Colton lifted his other hand flat, and something in the gesture stopped him cold. “Sit down,” Colton said. “You already had your moment. This one’s mine.”