I can tell before I reach the pedestal that something is wrong. Sophie’s eyes are red and puffy. Carmen is patting her arm. Vivian is frozen on the opposite end of the couch, clearly relieved at the sight of me and Marcy. I hustle as fast as the enormous skirt lets me and make it to the couch.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Sophie’s voice sounds nasal, like she’s about to cry. “No, no, it’s fine. We’ll talk later,” she insists.

I crouch down in front of her and take her hands. “Come on. What’s up?”

“Your boob is about to fall out of that dress,” she sniffles.

I adjust the neckline and clasp her hands again. “Thank you. Now talk.”

“Is this really the right place? I mean, you’re shopping,” she says.

“Sophie, it’s fiiine.”

She sighs heavily. “I was just telling Carmen how tough it’s been, you know, with the IVF process. And how we might not be able to afford another round, especially not right now.”

Carmen looks at me with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.

“Oh, Soph,” I say, shooing Carmen out of the way so I can perch on the edge of the couch to hug my sister.

I can feel her ragged attempt to regain her breath.

“Shh, shh, it’s going to be okay,” I tell her.

“I want money,” she says, pulling back. “I want to borrow fifteen thousand dollars from the business.”

“That’s a lot!” I protest.

“This is a lot,” she says, waving to my ridiculous gown and heavy diamond ring.

I ignore her jab. “Soph, that’s not how our company’s finances work,” I explain. “I can’t just give you fifteen thousand dollars from our corporate bank account, even if I wanted to. It’s complicated for tax reasons.”

“You could legally give me a fifteen-thousand-dollar raise, couldn’t you?” she asks.

“I—I don’t know if I, if we, can do that right now,” I say, faltering.

“So, what, we can put the company at risk for your interests, but not for mine?” Sophie asks bitterly.

I don’t dare turn to see their faces, but I can only imagine that Marcy and Vivian are doing their best to look politely disinterested. But then again, this is a wedding salon. Emotions must run high here. I’m sure they’re used to people crying on this couch all the time.

I swallow and try to stay calm. “That’s not what I mean,” I say.

“You’re getting everything you want,” she says, staring with red-rimmed eyes at the tulle ball gown pooling around my feet. “I just want . . .” She trails off and sighs heavily.