MY BROTHER CALLED, “PLEASE, DON’T COME TO MY WEDDING.” “WHY?” I ASKED. HE SMIRKED “I DON’T WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW YOU’RE JUST A CLEANER.”

Hotels—consulting fees routed through a company called DMR Strategies.

Daniel Michael Reeves.

My brother.

I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and called my attorney.

“Evan,” I said, staring at the invoices, “move the audit forward.”

He paused.

“To before the wedding?”

“No,” I said.

“Make it the morning of.”

Part 2

For the next three weeks, my family acted as though I were already buried.

My mother blocked me. My father removed me from the family group chat. Lauren sent one message before blocking me too.

Please don’t ruin