My Sister Passed Away at My Wedding – A Week Later, Her Coworker Called and Said, ‘She Left a Phone for You. Come Immediately!’ 1

An hour passed. Then my mother’s phone rang.

Mom listened, then went pale and pressed her hand to her mouth. “There was a crash,” she whispered.

I kept glancing at the entrance, but Claire never appeared.

For one second, nobody in the room seemed to know how to move. Then chairs scraped, keys were grabbed, and we were all rushing for the cars before the call had even fully ended.

Rain had started on the drive. Heavy, slanting rain that turned headlights into smears.

The rescue crew was still searching when we got there. Flashlights swept across the riverbank. My dress hem soaked through with mud.

Claire had taken a different road, a shortcut by the river. Her car had gone off the side and into the water.

The next day they found her body, and then there was a funeral instead of a honeymoon. Black dresses. Casseroles on the counters. People saying, “She knew you loved her,” with that awful soft certainty people use when they have nothing useful to offer.