Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

EPILOGUE
WHEN THE ACADEMY’S string quartet plays the opening
strains of Handel’s Water Music the flower girl—Damian’s four-year-
old niece—starts down the aisle, throwing white rose petals every-
where.
Beside me I can feel Stella fuming, and not because I get to walk
with Damian’s only attendant, his best man, and she has to walk
alone.
The wedding planner points to her and motions down the aisle.
Stella shakes her head vehemently, backing up like she wants to
leave the church.
“Huh-uh,” I say, pushing her back into the doorway. “Don’t want
to ruin the wedding.”
Her stare could melt glass. And if Damian hadn’t grounded her
powers this morning, I’d probably be a puddle on the floor right
now. With one last snarl in my direction, she turns and walks toward
the altar.
I don’t know why she’s so upset.
The green tint of her hair really brings out her eyes. And coordinates
perfectly with her blue-green bridesmaid dress. I think after
all the crap she put me through those first few weeks of school, I