“Judge Reed just commands the dust not to fall,” Wallis said.

“Bo seems somewhat afraid of her,” I said.

“You think?” Wallis examined an eyebrow in the mirror, then began to pluck.

“He’s different when he’s here. Have you noticed?”

“He’s in his childhood home,” Wallis said. “We’re all different at home. Including me.” She laid her tweezers on the sink. In the mirror, she met my eyes. “DC has felt so awful recently. Like I’m living in a snow globe that someone just keeps shaking. But I feel good here. I like Charleston. Our walk downtown was charming. I like a city that comes to a point. I like homes with porches.” She smiled and looked toward the ceiling. “I think something good is going to happen this weekend. I just feel it.”

“What’s the latest with Blake?” I asked, fiddling with the hem of my dress. I was in black, a high-collared number, sleeveless, floor-length.

Wallis shrugged. “He’s busy. He’ll get back to me. Tomorrow, he said.” She glanced at her phone resting on the edge of the sink. The screen was dark.

Though I was skeptical that any meeting with Blake would be productive, I envied her optimism. I coveted it. But it also made me resentful. Why did she get to have hope when I was floundering? I had a thought, briefly, of tossing a brick through her window, unloading on her the whole truth about Atlas, the kiss, Ari, why his article was canceled. My mouth opened, but the words gummed in my throat. She was my sister, and I loved her, and I could not. Anyway, this trip was supposed to be about celebrating with Bo and his family, champagne, good sleep and warm air, jaunts through narrow, colonial alleyways adorned with bougainvillea. Too young art thou to waste this summer night, right, Daisy?

Wallis studied her reflection and continued her work. Eyebrows done, and on to the powder, the concealer, the bronzer. It took her barely any time; her moves were practiced and perfunctory, her mind elsewhere. Tonight, how could a little buffing up hurt? When she was done, I asked to borrow her mascara. She passed it to me like a baton.

A gentle rap at the door—Bo, collecting us for the party. He waited while I zipped up Wallis. Naturally she’d chosen the green.

Turned out I’d badly miscalculated. Downstairs, I was the only one in black. All others were in the colors of spring, except the bride-to-be, Bo’s fraternal twin, Jessica, who was in white and pearls, radiant, petite, happy. The star of the party, she welcomed us, graciously.