We stepped inside the large walk-in closet and pulled the mirrored door almost all the way shut behind us.

The air inside the small space smelled of cedar and dry-cleaning plastic.

My rehearsal dinner shoes sat in a neat row on the bottom shelf.

Chloe tapped her phone screen constantly.

The white glow lit up her face in the dark closet.

“Are we calling Ethan right now?” Chloe asked.

“Or do we march in there and drag her out by her hair?”

I rubbed my left collarbone.