Again by Sharon Cullars Page B

there.
    A spot of blood, thick and warm, lay in the middle.
    She told herself that she had loosened something in her lung.
    But when she looked up, she caught sight of her mirror image. It pulled at her, drew her away from the wall. She walked slowly to the dresser mirror, her eyes focused on a space on her neck. When she moved in front of the mirror, she bent forward to stare at the small streak of red that lined the middle of her neck.
    She reached to touch it, and blood came away on her finger. She wiped it off and nothing remained. Her neck was not cut.
    But she didn’t know how the blood had gotten there.
    By the time she fell asleep again, she had almost convinced herself that it was nothing. Almost, but not quite.

C hapter 7
     
    “A pril, hold still.” Tyne bent to straighten the train that had been veering to the left as April walked between the tables in the reception hall. The silk panel tended to sway too much and hitch on April’s side. Other than that, the bride was perfect. Luckily no one had paid much attention to the errant train during the ceremony. They had been too entranced by April herself, her glow, her smile. Tyne imagined that love was personified in her sister today, every nuance of it. The girl was just beautiful. She dabbed at a tear building in the corner of her eye. She had on waterproof mascara as a precaution, but still she didn’t like appearing so emotional. Today was a day for joy; she managed to put other, more disturbing thoughts away.
    April gave her a quick peck on her cheek, then said, “Don’t worry about that damn thing. Go on and get you something to drink, stop following me around.”
    “I’m your maid of honor, I’m supposed to follow you around…” but before Tyne could finish the sentence, her sister walked away, winking over her shoulder. Tyne felt as though her sister was walking away for good.
    Tears had run during the ceremony, and even before as she helped April dress. Amid the excited retinue of bridesmaids, April had been the serene one, calmly reveling in her moment. When she turned from the mirror and smiled at Tyne, Tyne saw the little twelve-year-old pest who used to follow her around, trying to act all grown with her little, skinny knock-kneed self. Then as April stood there, she morphed into a beautiful woman on the verge of a new life, and Tyne realized their sister-friendship was going to change. With that knowledge, the tears flowed until April came and put a comforting arm around her and whispered, “It’s all right. I’m still your little sister.” Tyne had blinked, wondering at her sister’s sudden sixth sense.
    Nearly two hundred guests now filled the Preston Bradley Hall in the Cultural Center. Lights from the hanging Tiffany lamps sparkled against the zodiac signs on the Tiffany-domed ceiling while mosaic scrolls and rosettes adorned the supporting arches. In front of one of these arches, a seven-piece band was playing “Misty.” Hundreds of white-linen covered tables sat in the center, where guests sat eating, laughing, and talking. The voices echoed up to the dome, throughout the hall. On the dais that had been set up for the wedding party, the bride rejoined her groom, her hand softly caressing his arm as she sat down next to him. Donell had trimmed his dreads, and looked both nervous and handsome in his tuxedo. Then he smiled at April, and no one else existed for him.
    Tyne stood beneath one of the arches taking a breather. She peered around the room, taking in the overwhelming elegance. Crystal glasses, gold silverware, white silk napkins folded in the shape of birds of paradise…. April and Donell had gone all out for their fairy-tale day. The hall was actually a gift from April’s employer, the Chicago Department of Tourism, where April was an assistant director and which was housed on the first floor of the Cultural Center. April hadn’t had to pay for the reception hall at all.
    Tyne spotted her mother and Tyrone dancing among