Weddings are supposed to be about love and family—unless you’re my stepmother Dana, who saw my presence as a problem to be eliminated. Her elaborate scheme to lock me out of my father’s life reached new heights when she literally locked me IN their house on the morning of their wedding.
I’d tried for years to get along with Dana, laughing at her terrible jokes and pretending not to notice when she “accidentally” donated all my childhood photos. But when my dad excitedly told me about their small, intimate wedding (translation: no ex-wife’s daughter allowed), I knew this was different. Still, I bought a nice dress and planned to support him.
Dana’s masterstroke came when she invited me to stay over the night before. Too late, I realized it was a setup—she’d deadbolted every door, hidden my phone and keys, and left me trapped with nothing but her smug note. What she didn’t account for was my Apple Watch still being on my wrist.
One emergency text to my best friend later, and I was racing to the venue in what felt like a movie scene—throwing open the doors just as my father and Dana reached the altar. The gasps from the small crowd were almost as satisfying as watching my dad’s face fall when he read Dana’s handwritten confession.
The wedding was called off before they even reached “I do.” Three weeks later, my dad moved out and filed for annulment. Some people will go to shocking lengths to rewrite family history—but sometimes, the truth wears powder blue and won’t be ignored.
