The heavy black doors of the grand ballroom swung open with a deafening thud, cutting right through the sweet sound of the wedding march. Every single guest in the crowded room stopped talking. Gasps echoed off the high blue-lit ceilings as a woman stepped into the bright light.
Guest: Is that... blood on her coat?
Bride: What is she doing here?!
Groom: Oh my god...
The woman wore a torn hospital gown under a oversized green trench coat. White medical bandages wrapped tight around her forehead, covering half of her face. Fresh dark bruises showed against her pale skin. Her heavy boots dragged across the polished marble floor as she walked straight down the main aisle toward the altar.
Bride: Get this guest out of here right now!
Groom: Victoria, wait. Don't touch her.
Bride: Are you serious, Julian?! She looks like a lunatic from the street!
Victoria, wearing a custom white lace dress that cost fifty thousand dollars, rushed down the altar steps. Her face was bright red with pure anger as she stood right in front of the injured woman, blocking her path to the groom.
Bride: Who allowed you into my wedding?!
Injured Woman: I don't care about your wedding, Victoria.
Bride: Security! Drag this garbage out into the alley!
Injured Woman: I'm not leaving.
Victoria raised her gloved hand and slapped the injured woman hard across the face. The loud crack echoed through the silent hall, making the guests scream in shock. The woman's head snapped to the side, but she did not fall. She slowly looked back up at the bride, her jaw set with terrifying resolve, and reached toward her bandages with a steady hand.
Injured Woman: You shouldn't have done that, Victoria. Because now everyone is going to see who I really am.