You're Invited(67)

I sat on the bed and pulled out my phone at 10:10 a.m. I pumped a fist into the air. I’d take any consolation I could get. Kaavi would be getting ready by now. She’d probably be ready hours before the ceremony for the usual two-hour photo shoot. She was on the ground floor, maybe even just below me, and the thought made adrenaline flood my veins. Andre was probably fussing about her, telling her how gorgeous she was. Or maybe he quit in anger after the dress was destroyed. Who knew?

Sure enough, I clicked on her profile to see plenty of behind-the-scenes action on Instagram. Kaavi sipping champagne with her girlfriends. Kaavi beaming while getting her hair done. Kaavi smelling the flowers that would go in her hair.

“Change of plans, my lovelies,” she said in a short clip. “Looks like I’ll be wearing my Hayley Paige to the church ceremony after all.” Trust her to put a positive spin on a destroyed wedding dress.

I laid my head on the cool pillow.

Kaavi giggling at something the makeup artist whispered in her ear.

My head felt heavy. I hadn’t slept all night. Maybe I could just close my eyes for a few minutes. There was plenty of time until the ceremony. I set an alarm on my phone, just to be sure.

I fell asleep while watching a video of Kaavi waving into the camera, blowing her viewers a kiss.





TEHANI


Interview Transcript: Tehani Fonseka (abbrev. TF) Part 3 of 3

Date: January 25, 2020

Location: The Mount Lavinia Hotel

TF: Well, I really don’t see why you need to ask me more questions. I mean, all the proof is there, right? Why don’t you call the police and ask them to arrest this wedding crasher, already?

EP: We will be making arrests in due time, Miss Fonseka. Until then, I’d love to clear just a few things up.

TF: [Pause] Okay, fine.

EP: So you explained to us that your family and Miss Bloom were not on speaking terms. To your knowledge, she and your sister were not on speaking terms, am I correct?

TF: Yeah, that’s right. Why are we going over all this again? I thought we weren’t focusing on Amaya anymore.

EP: Bear with me. There’s something I can’t seem to wrap my head around. I’ve been informed by numerous parties that your family had cut ties with Miss Bloom. If that were the case, then who invited her to the wedding?

TF: [Pause] I don’t know.

EP: Are you sure about that, Miss Fonseka?

TF: [Pause]

EP: Miss Fonseka, did you invite Miss Bloom to the wedding?

TF: [Pause]

EP: Miss Fonseka?

TF: No. Of course not.

EP: Miss Fonseka, I’d like to remind you that while we are not the police, you can be in serious trouble for lying during these interviews. The statements we take are as good as a sworn affidavit. You could be arrested for hindering this investigation. Now, let me ask you once more—did you invite Miss Bloom to the wedding?

TF: Okay, look. I thought—well—yes. Yes, I did invite her to the wedding, okay? So what if I did? I didn’t . . . Okay, look. I never thought, not in a million years, that she was serious. That she’d actually want to harm Kaavi. They were best friends, after all.

EP: Let’s backtrack a moment. How did you send her the invitation?

TF: She wouldn’t have come if she thought the invitation was from me. And my sister always left her laptop lying around. As you are already aware, I pretty much know all her passwords. It wasn’t too difficult to send Amaya an invitation from Kaavi’s account.

EP: And why, may I ask, were you motivated to do that?

TF: [Pause] [TF dabs a tissue over her eyes]

EP: Miss Fonseka?

TF: Because my family is full of lying hypocrites, that’s why. Especially my father and my holier-than-thou sister. They lord over everyone else, pretending to be so perfect, but they are full of so much bullshit they could fertilize all the paddy fields in the country.

You know my dad is broke, right? Or about as close to it as you can get when you have half of Colombo at your beck and call—no offense. Don’t worry, I’m sure you and your security company will still get paid.

But he’s pretty much run Fonseka Jewellers into the ground. My poor grandad would turn in his grave . . . but here we are—booking out the entire fucking Mount Lavinia Hotel, paying for my sister to fly to Singapore on a whim just to buy a ridiculously overpriced dress that she’ll only wear once.

He was supposed to help me out this year, you know. He’d promised that if I got my business plan together, he’d give me the cash I needed to start my own fashion line. I spent so long on it, you know? Took me ages to source the fabric and find all the suppliers and get the branding just right. I’d networked with all the boutiques in Colombo, and they’d all promised to carry my designs and everything. And then, well, he just goes and has a change of mind. Says that this isn’t the right environment for a start-up. Actually has the gall to tell me that no one in their right mind would spend thirty-five thousand rupees on a dress. All the while he’s happy to pay for a fucking lobster station at Kaavi’s wedding and decides to spend money he doesn’t have on some bullshit new store just so he could make a big deal about getting Spencer to run it.

I knew if Amaya came back that their bullshit and secrets and lies would be exposed. Everyone might look like they have their shit together, but I know my family. There’s so much simmering just below the surface, waiting for a match. Amaya was that match. It would only be a matter of time until my mother blew her fuse. And my father would be exposed as the hypocrite that he is.