Megan stepped out of the elevator holding two paper cups of iced coffee.

“It took twenty minutes to get these,” Megan said.

“My feet are absolutely killing me.”

She set the seven-dollar coffees on the hallway table and pulled a tube of lip gloss from her pocket.

Kendra grabbed my wrist.

“We can still fix this,” Kendra said.

“We’re your bridesmaids.

You need us standing next to you for the photos.”