A few weeks later, an envelope arrived in the mail. Inside was an itinerary with my name, the airline’s logo, and what appeared to be an e-ticket confirmation. Relief washed over me. Maybe I’d misjudged Lydia. Maybe she really did want me there.

On the day of the flight, I packed my small suitcase, hugged my mom goodbye, and headed to the airport. My dad was already on the island, having flown out early with Lydia to finalize wedding details. I was nervous traveling alone, but also excited. For all my reservations about Lydia, I wanted to see my dad happy. I wanted to be there to support him.

At the airline counter, I handed over my itinerary with a smile. The woman behind the desk scanned it, frowned, and typed something into her computer. She tried again. Then again. Finally, she looked up with an apologetic expression.