“That’s the real Vivian,” a man confirmed.

“My God, what on earth did they do to her?” another guest whispered in horror.

I walked up onto the stage with Luke’s help. Brenda stared at me as if she’d just seen a dead woman return from the grave.

“Vivian…” she stammered.

“Do not dare say my name,” I said firmly.

My voice wasn’t loud, but the stage microphone carried it clearly to every corner of the room. Brenda stepped back quickly and tripped over the long train of my dress, but no one moved to help her up.