The wedding hall was filled with music, laughter, and the glittering illusion of happiness that often accompanies ceremonies where everyone is expected to smile, whether they feel it or not. Crystal chandeliers reflected soft golden light onto white tablecloths, carefully arranged flowers, and rows of guests dressed in their finest clothes. From the outside, it looked like a perfect celebration, the kind people would later remember as elegant and joyful. Nina stood in the ladies’ restroom, staring at her reflection, trying to recognize the woman looking back at her. The white dress fit her perfectly, her veil rested gently over her shoulders, and her makeup had been applied with professional precision. Yet her eyes told a different story. They looked tired, uncertain, and strangely distant. She placed both hands on the sink and took a slow breath, listening to the muffled sounds of the party beyond the door. Cheers erupted somewhere in the hall, followed by applause. Someone was making another toast. Her father’s voice rose above the others, loud and emotional, as it always did when he drank. Nina should have felt proud. She should have felt safe. Instead, a quiet unease sat heavy in her chest, like a warning she couldn’t quite translate into words. Just as she adjusted her veil and prepared to return, the door creaked open slightly.