Angol
Maybe she's jilted you . . ." It was an impossible suggestion but after an hour, Owen secretly considered the possibility. The guests were understandably annoyed by the delay. Bridesmaids were no longer standing single file, instead they'd huddled up- gossiping about the bride's whereabouts. The pastor, concerned, clutched his bible; preparing to offer spiritual support should she never show. Owen hands were shaking, "Something's wrong. I can't feel her anymore..." he said to Trent, the best man. Owen pretended to believe Trent's reassurance but deep down inside Owen knew something had gone terribly wrong. The massive church doors burst opened. The crowd turned in unison. Owen sheltered his face from the sun's sudden rays. When Owen could finally open his eyes, he saw the officers. Their soft, mournful faces gave answer before Owen could ask, but still he asked. "Has something happened to Jade?" "We're afraid so. It's bad, real bad. There's not going to be a wedding today. In fact we're gonna need you to come down to the shore. A body washed up, dressed up real pretty...We believe it may be Jade, you're bride." Lives intertwined, unknowingly attached to one another. All pushed to the point of sheer jealousy, volatile rage, devastating shame, and cold blooded murder. All hindered by countless misunderstood emotions, inapt feelings, agonizing secrets, and life-altering decisions that caused gaping aches to take root inside one another.
