The heavy oak doors of the bright chapel slammed open with a deafening bang. Outside, the rain poured, but inside, the daylight flooded the marble aisle. A little girl stood at the back, drenched, clutching a wet brown envelope to her chest.

Girl: MOMMY! DON'T MARRY HIM!

The entire church went dead silent. The groom turned around near the altar, his face contorted in anger. Next to him, the bride gasped, her white roses trembling in her hands.

Groom: WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT OF HERE!

Girl: I AM MICHAEL'S DAUGHTER! YOUR REAL HUSBAND!

Bride: THAT'S A LIE! MICHAEL DIED FIVE YEARS AGO IN NEW YORK!

Girl: HE KEPT MY DAD LOCKED IN SECRET FOR FIVE YEARS AND KILLED HIM YESTERDAY! CALL 911 RIGHT NOW!

The girl ripped open the wet brown envelope, pulling out official papers and bank checks stamped with fresh ink. The groom's face turned completely ghost white as the congregation began to whisper. How could a dead man sign a check dated yesterday?

Bride: What is she talking about, Mark? What is this paper?

Groom: She’s just a crazy street kid! Guards, throw her out right now!

Girl: Look at the signature, Mommy! Look at the date!

Bride: Don't you dare touch her! Let me see those papers!

The bride stepped away from the altar, her lace veil trailing behind her as she walked down the aisle toward the weeping child. The groom tried to grab her wrist, but she snatched her arm back, her eyes fixed on the wet envelope. The air in the church was freezing, filled with a sudden, suffocating tension that left everyone breathless.