At the hotel, Vanessa read the first line of my note aloud in a shaking voice, then stopped. Inside the envelope was a brass key tied with blue ribbon, a photograph of a yellow beach house in Cannon Beach, and a transfer paper with her name on it and one empty line for my signature. Caleb texted again: Everyone is staring at her. The man with the windowpane cufflinks just stood up and asked, Who is Daniel Brooks?

I put my fork down. Before the waiter returned, my phone rang with a number I knew well. It was Trevor, the groom, whom I had met only twice. His voice was low and strained. “Daniel, please do not hang up. Your sister deleted your name herself, and I just found out why.” Behind him, glass shattered, a woman screamed my name, and then the line went dead.