“He forged my name on a resignation letter,” I said, pointing at Seth.

“And he used my savings to cancel his sister’s childcare.”

“Natalie, keep your voice down,” Seth whispered, grabbing at my elbow.

“People inside can hear you.”

I shoved the heavy wooden sanctuary doors open with both hands and stepped into the back of the aisle.

Seventy seated guests turned around in their pews, their cheerful chatter dying instantly as they looked toward the back of the church.

My aunt in the second row dropped her paper fan, and Seth’s mother stood up from her seat near the altar, clutching her pearl necklace.