Chapter Text
Alice woke up to the blaring sound of her alarm and immediately smacked it off, holding her breath.
She lay still for a moment, heart thudding softly, and turned her head. Alastor slept on his back, utterly unmoved by the morning—breathing slow and even. It always amazed her how deeply he was able to sleep, as though nothing in the world could wake him. Alice studied his face briefly, the familiar lines and composed expression, and felt that strange mix of warmth and disbelief curl in her chest.
Carefully, she slipped from the bed.
The May heat had already settled into the house, the air thick and faintly damp even this early in the morning. New Orleans never truly slept, and it also never truly cooled. Alice moved quietly across the room, dressing in her underthings and gathering what she would need for the day. Gloves. Shoes. Hairpins. Each small item felt momentous in her hands.
And then it struck her—fully, properly.
Today was her wedding.
A smile spread across her face before she could stop it. She brought a hand to her mouth, as if containing the joy might somehow lessen the danger of it escaping too loudly. Her heart fluttered, light and giddy, the way it used to when she was a girl imagining white dresses and flower petals and music drifting through open windows.
She hurried downstairs and opened the old hall closet, the one she’d kept her secret in. Carefully, she drew out her dress. She’d hidden it there for weeks so Alastor wouldn’t stumble across it by accident. The fabric was cool and soft beneath her fingers as she laid it out, smoothing it as if it might calm her nerves.
Alice sat in the front room waiting for Cindy to arrive and take her to the wedding venue.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Her excitement, sharp and bright at first, began to thin around the edges, slowly giving way to something tighter. Heavier.
She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them, thinking. She had imagined her wedding a thousand times growing up—never overly extravagant, modest. Never once had she imagined it would be in the jazzy city of New Orleans. Never once had she imagined the groom would be a radio host. And certainly never—
She swallowed.
A serial killer.
The thought landed like a stone in her chest. Her fingers trembled, and she pressed them together until they stilled. Alice drew in a slow breath, the way Alastor had taught her to do.
At least he isn’t overly cruel, she told herself. At least not to her.
Recently, Alice had spent countless hours in the small library in her free time, devouring books of every category she could find. Including some crime, horror and even case studies. Things that made her stomach twist and her skin crawl. Needless to say, it was not her favorite genre. But compared to some of the men she’d read about, Alastor felt… restrained. Civilized, even. She's read about horrific stories of sexually violent murders, jealous murderers, even some cases, where the murderers simply ate their victims, at least Alastor didn’t do that.
Alastor wasn’t perfect. Far from it.
But she knew—deep down in that quiet place she trusted—he would never hurt her. Not ever.
But one thought always lingered in her mind. And maybe—just maybe—she could help him. Alice smiled faintly at the thought. She had lots of love to give. Surely, enough of it could soften anyone. She was almost certain it had already begun to work. She had noticed that Alastor hadn’t slipped out at night in weeks. At least, not that she’d noticed.
Still, the unease lingered.
Alice drifted toward the window, peering down the street for any sign of Cindy’s car. The sky had lightened to a pale blue, sunlight catching on the distant rooftops, the city humming awake.
That was when she noticed Alastor’s jacket lying over the back of a chair.
Her brow furrowed. He never left it there. He was always very meticulous about such things.
She stepped closer before she could stop herself. A small leather journal peeked from the inside pocket, worn with age and use. It looked old. Important.
Curiosity tugged at her—gentle, but insistent.
She reached out to grab it.
—HONK!
A sudden honk blared from outside.
Alice gasped, snatched her hand back, and spun toward the door.
Cindy was finally here.
Heart racing, Alice grabbed her things and dashed forward, excitement and nerves tangling together once more as she pulled the door open—leaving the jacket, and the journal, untouched behind her.
Alice stepped outside with her dress carefully draped over one arm and her makeup bag tucked under the other. The morning air was already humid and warm, the kind that promised the day would
grow heavy and bright all at once. Cindy’s car idled at the curb, and the moment she spotted Alice, she leaned halfway out the window, grinning ear to ear.
“Ally!” Cindy cried. “I am so excited! I could barely sleep last night.”
Alice smiled instinctively as she climbed in, comforted by her sister’s familiar energy. Cindy glanced at her properly then—really looked—and her grin softened into something more knowing.
“Oh, honey,” she said gently, cocking her head. “You look like you’re about two seconds away from being sick. Didn’t sleep well either I take it?”
Alice let out a small, shaky breath and adjusted her grip on the dress. “I slept great, actually. I didn’t wake up once, I guess I’m just… nervous.”
“Well, that’s normal,” Cindy said at once, bumping her shoulder lightly with Alice’s. “It’d be weird if you weren’t.” Then her lips curved into a teasing smile. “To be honest I’d be lying if I said I wasn't worried for you too. You’ve known this man, what, eight whole months? And all this right after you bailed on your last engagement.”
Alice shot her a look. “I didn’t bail, I ran away."
Cindy lifted a brow. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
They both laughed, the tension easing just a touch, the way it always did when they found that easy rhythm again— just two polar opposite sisters against the world, like they’d been all their lives.
“Oh!” Cindy added, waving a hand as she pulled the car into gear. “Speaking of—Leland went back home last night. Saw him catch the late train after… entertaining himself.” She smirked. “Paid some girl off and disappeared.”
Alice grimaced. “Ew! He’s such a sleaze bag.”
But beneath the disgust, something in her chest finally loosened. She hadn’t even realized how tightly she’d been holding that breath—how much space his shadow still took up in her mind. Knowing he was gone, truly gone, felt like closing a door at last. Out of her life. For good.
Cindy glanced at Alice again, more serious now. “Ally, don't take this the wrong way but, I just want to make sure you’re absolutely sure about this. Truly. I mean—you've only known him for a short time, what if he’s, I don’t know…” She paused, then deadpanned, “a serial killer or something?”
Alice went completely still.
Cindy burst out laughing. “Oh my Lord, Alice, I was joking!” She wiped her eyes. “You should’ve seen the look on your face!”
Alice forced a laugh, doing her best to look amused, even as her thoughts screamed.
Oh, if only you knew.
Oblivious, Cindy reached over and patted Alice’s knee affectionately. “Relax. He seems polite, charming—very put together. And most importantly?” She smiled warmly. “He makes you happy. I can see that.”
Alice nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she said. “He does.”
And that much was true—undeniably so. She loved Alastor. That certainty settled her more than anything else. And maybe—just maybe—she could help him, the way he had helped her.
After all, people could change.
She had to believe that.
For her own sanity.
Eventually, Cindy pulled the car to a stop just beyond the tree line, gravel crunching softly beneath the tires.
Alice stepped out slowly, her shoes sinking slightly into the damp earth. She took it all in at once and felt her chest loosen. Since Alastor wasn’t religious, a chapel didn’t feel right for their wedding.
Instead, they picked a venue that lay nestled in the woods, where willow branches draped lazily toward a narrow river that wound past the clearing. Morning light filtered through the leaves, turning the water to glass. It was beautiful and quiet, just the way she liked it.
It truly did feel like them.
Off to the side stood a graceful wooden building prepared for the reception, its open windows and shaded porch promising refuge from the mosquitoes that thrived in Louisiana summers.
Cindy let out a low whistle as she climbed out beside her. “Well,” she said, surveying the scene, “I’ll be damned. This place is really somethin'.”
Then she glanced at Alice, her voice dropping just enough to carry meaning. “Just so you know—Daddy’s gonna have a fit, you're not having your wedding in a church."
Alice’s stomach twisted on instinct. But the feeling passed.
“Oh, of course he is,” she replied, rolling her eyes with a tired sort of affection. “Father’s tried to control my life since the day I learned to speak. He’ll just have to survive this one.”
Cindy laughed softly at that, and together they headed inside.
The interior was just as Alice had imagined—flowers everywhere, clusters of lanterns casting a warm golden glow, ribbons tied lazily along the wooden beams. Nothing felt too stiff or imposing.
Alice felt a pulse of excitement rush through her.
“Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed, turning bright-eyed to Cindy. “Come on, I need to put my dress on.”
Cindy grinned wide. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s go, sugar!”
They hurried to the dressing room, laughter bubbling between them like it had when they were girls. Cindy laced Alice into her gown with practiced care, tugging the floral lace snug at her back. The fabric was delicate, light as air, and the slight train brushed the floor just enough to make Alice feel elegant without feeling trapped.
She smiled at her reflection.
“Hey,” Alice said suddenly, brow creasing. “When’s Mama getting here? Shouldn’t she be—”
“—Yeah,” Cindy cut in gently. “I’m sure she’s just dolling herself up. Or trying to get Daddy dressed without starting the next world war.”
That earned a small, knowing laugh from Alice.
When Cindy finished, she spun her around. “Alright. Let me see you.”
Cindy’s smile faltered. Then her eyes softened. Then—much to Alice’s surprise—they slowly teared up.
“Oh, Cindy, don’t cry,” Alice said quickly, laughing nervously. “That’s Mama’s job.”
“I know,” Cindy sniffed, wiping at her cheeks. “I just—Alice, I’m so proud of you. Truly. I was so scared when you ran away here. I didn’t understand it back then.”
She took Alice’s hands, squeezing them tight.
“But now?” she continued. “Now I see it. This—this was the bravest thing you’ve ever done. And I really do think it’s the best choice you could’ve made.”
Alice’s throat tightened. “Stop,” she said softly. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
Cindy smiled through the tears. “Good,” she teased. “Means it’s real.”
Then a knock came as Cindy finished tying the final ribbon at the back of Alice’s dress.
Cindy moved to answer it, still smiling—until the smile faltered.
“Nick?” she said, confused, seeing her husband. “I thought you were sleepin’ in.”
Nick stood in the doorway, unease drawn tight across his face. “I was. But someone had to drive your mama out here.”
Cindy frowned. “What do you mean? Daddy was supposed to bring her.”
Before Nick could answer, a soft voice came from behind him.
“When I woke this morning,” Alice’s mother said quietly, stepping inside, “your father wasn’t in bed. I knew he’d gone out for a smoke last night, but…” She trailed off, worry written plainly across her face.
Alice’s stomach dropped.
“Did he leave?” she asked, her voice thin. “Is he—Is he still out there?” Panic threatened to rise. “Mama, the wedding is in two hours.”
Cindy was at her side instantly, fingers closing around Alice’s trembling hands. “Hey. Hey.” She squeezed gently. “Don’t you fret yourself sick just yet. You know how Daddy gets when he’s in a mood. Probably needed air. Or time. He’ll show. He always does.”
Alice nodded, though the unease lingered, curling low in her chest.
Her mother’s eyes finally fell on Alice then—and she gasped.
“Oh,” she breathed, one hand flying to her mouth. Tears welled instantly. “Alice… you look just divine. My goodness—you look so grown up.”
Alice smiled and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her mother. She suddenly felt small again, just a girl pressed into the familiar arms of her mother.
“If only your granddaddy were here,” her mother said softly. “He’d have loved this. A wedding by the river.” She smiled through her tears. “Oh, how I wish he could see you.”
Memory washed over Alice in a warm, aching wave—summer days long past, sitting in her grandfather’s little boat as it chugged through the South Carolina swamps. His low humming as the radio crackled. The smell of water and greenery. The way she’d leaned over the edge, watching dragonflies skim the surface while the trees bowed low above them.
“I think he’s here,” Alice said quietly, blinking back tears. “In spirit, at least.”
Her mother guided her to the chair and began brushing her hair, slow and gentle, just as she had when Alice was a child. Cindy hovered close, dusting powder along Alice’s cheeks, her touch careful, familiar.
For a moment—just a moment—everything felt soft again.
More guests began to trickle in—Alice’s bridesmaids, a handful of her old dancing friends from her flapper days, all silk and smiles and soft perfume. Mimzy breezed in last, resplendent as ever, looking like she’d stepped straight out of a nightclub poster. The room buzzed with low chatter and laughter, the pleasant kind of noise that made the air feel alive.
Then—
A sudden eruption of sound tore through the hallway.
Loud hooting. Laughter. Voices overlapping one another in rapid-fire cadence, thick with accents that rolled and snapped like music. Someone whooped. Someone else laughed so hard they wheezed.
Cindy froze mid-eyeliner stroke.
“Who in their right mind is being that obnoxious right now?” she muttered. “Don’t they know there’s a weddin’ in an hour?”
A sharp knock followed.
Cindy straightened. “Oh. now that must be Daddy,” she said briskly, already marching toward the door. “And if it ain’t, I’m about to give whoever is out there a piece of my—”
She opened it.
And stopped dead.
For a heartbeat, she said nothing.
Alice recognized the voice immediately.
“Well hello there, miss,” a woman drawled warmly. “We were just—”
Alice whipped her head around so fast her mother hissed in protest, fingers still tangled in her hair. Alice barely noticed.
Standing in the doorway were two women.
Nadine and Jeanne.
Alastor’s aunts.
Alice’s face lit up. “Aunt Nadine! Aunt Jeanne!” She hurried forward and wrapped them both in a hug.
“Oh Lord, look at you, chérie,” Aunt Nadine exclaimed, holding Alice at arm’s length and inspecting her proudly. “Ain’t you just a vision?”
Aunt Jeanne clasped her hands together. “Prettiest thing I ever did see. Just glowing. Like a magnolia in full bloom.”
Alice laughed, warmth flooding her chest. “Thank you! I’m so glad y’all could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Aunt Jeanne said promptly. “Honestly, I was startin’ to think Alastor would never get married.”
Aunt Nadine elbowed her hard. “Oh hush, Jeanne.”
Alice turned back toward her family, smiling. “Mama, Cindy—this is Aunt Jeanne and Aunt Nadine. They’re… well, they’re Alastor’s family.”
Cindy blinked, still processing. “So y’all were the ones makin’ all that racket?”
Alice shot Cindy the most lethal glare she could manage without smudging her makeup.
Aunt Nadine laughed loudly. “Sorry ‘bout that. Some of the little ones—it’s their first time outta the bayou.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I swear they’ll behave for the ceremony.”
She leaned in conspiratorially. “As for the grown ones… well. I already smacked one upside the head on the way in, so I’ve done my civic duty.”
Alice laughed outright.
Aunt Jeanne smiled at her kindly. “We just wanted to check if you needed anything, sweetheart.”
“Oh—no, thank you,” Alice said, still smiling. “Please, just enjoy yourselves.”
“Well aren’t you just a delight,” Aunt Jeanne said fondly.
The room felt warmer somehow after that—louder, livelier, threaded through with laughter and easy affection.
Then a man suddenly appeared in the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, his grin already familiar. Alice recognized him instantly.
“Louis,” she said, surprised.
“The one and only,” he replied cheerfully. “Well now—don’t you look mighty fine, bride.”
“Thank you,” Alice said, smiling despite herself. “And you’re not planning on starting any trouble today, are you?”
Before Louis could answer, Aunt Nadine cut in sharply. “He ain’t,” she said, fixing him with a look. “Already had words with him before we walked in.”
Louis rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Cousins scrap sometimes. It ain’t the end of the world.”
He leaned farther into the room then, eyes drifting over the flurry of women, curls, perfume, silk, and laughter. “Well I’ll be—Alice, you got yourself some real pretty friends.”
Alice blinked, unsure what to say.
Louis’s gaze landed squarely on Cindy. “And you—aren’t you just a sight.”
Cindy stiffened. Her cheeks flushed pink, equal parts offended and startled. “I’m married.”
Louis grinned. “Well now, that ain’t never stopped me before.”
A sharp smack landed on the back of his head.
“Louis!” another man barked. “You had better behave or you want Alastor to finish what he started last Thanksgiving?”
Alice turned to see Adan, another cousin, shaking his head in exasperation. “Keep it in your pants, Louis. This ain’t the time.”
Louis rubbed the back of his head. “Y’all are no fun.”
“Alastor’s already on edge,” Adan added. “You don’t wanna be the reason he snaps.”
“That boy wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Louis scoffed as Adan dragged him away.
Alice let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Relief warmed her chest. “Oh, thank goodness he’s here?,” she said softly. “When I left this morning, he was sleeping like a log.”
“Oh, he’s here,” Adan called back over his shoulder. “Been here awhile.”
Aunt Jeanne chuckled. “Well, we best go make sure that suit’s sittin’ right.”
As they turned to leave, Aunt Nadine paused, taking Alice’s hands gently in hers. “Welcome to the family, chère.”
The words hit Alice harder than she expected. Her eyes stung, and she swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”
When the door finally closed, Alice’s mother tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well,” she said, “your in-laws certainly are… energetic.”
Alice laughed softly. “Just a little. But they’re so kind and whitty—and their cooking is to die for.”
Her mother smiled, brushing Alice’s hair one last time. “That’s all that matters, my dear. As long as you’re happy.”
Alice smiled.
The clock crept closer to the hour, each tick louder than the last. Alice’s gaze kept drifting to the door, her heart stubbornly clinging to a hope she knew—deep down—was already bruised beyond repair.
Cindy finally broke the silence, clapping her hands once, bright and decisive.
“Alright, sunshine. It’s time. Everybody’s getting lined up, and if we don’t move now, someone’s gonna start faintin’ from the heat.”
Alice didn’t move. Her fingers tightened in the lace of her dress.
In a small, fragile voice, she whispered, “Why did Father leave?”
Her throat closed. “How could he do this?”
Cindy’s smile faltered—but only for a second. She slipped closer, voice warm and buoyant, like she was patching a crack before it could widen.
“Well, hey—he might still show up. You know Daddy. Always dramatic. Might come sweepin’ in at the last possible second just to make an entrance.”
But Alice shook her head. The hope finally slipped loose. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.
“I don’t think he’s coming.”
Cindy sighed softly, then lifted Alice’s chin with gentle determination.
“Then that’s his loss. Truly. He’d’ve turned it into a whole sermon anyway.” She dabbed carefully at Alice’s eyes. “I know he suffocated you back then, and I hate that I didn’t protect you more. But you left that life. You’re happy now. And I’ll be damned if I let him steal one more thing from you—especially today.”
With that, they made their way outside, the air was thick and heavy, the kind of May heat that pressed into your lungs. And much to Alice's dismay, dark clouds started to gather overhead, swollen and restless.
Alice peeked past the curtain.
The clearing was full—Alastor’s loud, colorful family clustered together, her own distant relatives fanning themselves, friends from New Orleans laughing softly, waiting. So many faces. So much support.
It should have been enough.
But there was still one face missing.
Mimzy appeared at her side, all silk and sparkle, eyes sharp despite the smile.
“What’s that look for, doll?” she said lightly. “It’s your weddin’ day! We’re gonna tear up that dance floor—just like old times. You ain’t havin’ second thoughts now, are ya?”
Alice shook her head. “No. I just…” She swallowed. “My father didn’t come.”
Mimzy’s expression flickered—just a heartbeat too long—before smoothing over.
“Well I’ll be,” she said softly. “You talk to him?”
Alice shook her head again.
“If he wanted to be here, he would’ve been. I’m not going to beg.”
Mimzy nodded once, firm.
“Good. Then to hell with that guy.”
Then the music began.
One by one, people stepped forward. The aisle filled. The moment had finally arrived, whether Alice felt ready or not.
Her nerves buzzed beneath her skin—excitement tangled with fear, love braided tightly with dread. She loved Alastor. Truly. Even knowing what he was. She wished her father were here. She wished—just for a second—that time would stop long enough for her to breathe.
But it didn’t.
Before it was Cindy’s turn to walk down the aisle, she slipped back to Alice’s side and wrapped her in a fierce, familiar hug—the kind only sisters give, all warmth and history pressed together. She pulled back, hands still resting on Alice’s arms, her smile softening into something wistful.
“You’re lucky, y’know,” Cindy murmured.
Alice blinked at her confused. “Lucky?”
Cindy nodded, her expression gentler now. “Yeah, honestly I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t a little jealous of you right now.”
Alice frowned, confused. “You’re jealous that Father skipped my wedding?”
Cindy let out a quiet laugh. “Oh Lord, no. Not that.” She squeezed Alice’s hands. “I’m jealous because you’re marryin’ for love. Real love.”
Alice hesitated. “Well… yeah. You didn’t?”
Cindy’s smile wavered. She looked down the aisle for a moment, then back at Alice. “I like Nick,” she said carefully. “He’s somewhat kind. He’s very respectable in our town. He’s got money and a good name. Daddy thought he was the perfect man.” Her voice lowered. “And I was foolish enough to trust his judgment. I went on and married that dull man without question.”
Alice’s chest tightened. She didn’t know what to say.
Cindy, ever the older sister, didn’t linger in the sadness. She patted Alice’s hand and straightened, her brightness returning just enough. “But you,” she said softly, “you get to do this your way. Even if it’s a little messy.” She smiled. “At least you get to do it right.”
She leaned in, pressing her forehead briefly to Alice’s. “That’s somethin’ special.”
Then Cindy turned and walked toward the aisle as the maid of honor.
Now Alice was alone.
The music swelled faintly, and her heart followed it, pounding, trembling—full of love, fear, grief, and hope all at once.