A year later, Dad announced his wedding like it was just another family update. Owen wanted nothing to do with it at first. He flat-out refused. But after weeks of pressure from our grandparents, he reluctantly agreed. There was something new in his voice, though an unsettling calm, a strange resolve.

Two weeks before the big day, Owen came into my room and asked me to order itching powder from Amazon. I didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t try to stop him. On the wedding day, Owen volunteered to hang up Dana’s jacket before the ceremony. While no one was watching, he carefully sprinkled the itching powder into the lining. As the vows began, Dana started to twitch.

Then she scratched. Soon her skin turned bright red, and her discomfort turned into a scene. She rushed out of the ceremony mid-vows, humiliated and red-faced. Later, Owen turned to me and said, “Now she’ll remember her wedding the same way Mom remembers the day she found them together.” And honestly? I didn’t feel sorry. Not even a little.