I scowl at a man who’s barreling through the aisle and refusing to wait his turn, then I help the tias get their bags from the overhead compartments. After a stop at the restroom, the tias and I follow the signs for ground transportation.

“There are slot machines in the airport?” Tia Mariana asks rhetorically. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

At ground transportation, I pull up the address for the Oasis Wedding Chapel. According to Google, it’s on the Vegas Strip and should only be a short trip from the airport. Once we’re all settled in the cab, I try my luck reaching Solange. To my surprise, someone picks up after the first ring.

“Hey, Dean,” Brandon whispers. “We can’t talk right now. We’ll call you back in a half hour or so.”

“Brandon—”

He hangs up before I can say another word.

I growl in frustration, then remember I’m not alone. “Sorry about that, everyone. I’m stressed.”

Izabel pats my forearm. “It’s okay, Dean. We understand.”

“How can you be so serene about this?” I say, bracing my neck. “Aren’t you worried Solange is making the biggest mistake of her life?”

She shrugs. “I have faith everything will work out in the end. Deus sempre encontra um caminho.”

Tia Mariana leans over. “God will always find a way.”

“And who knows?” Solange’s mother continues. “Maybe Brandon and Solange are meant to be. I just need to see this with my own eyes.”

Yeah, no. I don’t need to see shit with my own eyes. If Solange is meant to be with anyone, it’s abso-fucking-lutely me. I meet the driver’s curious gaze in the rearview. “Listen, we need to be at Oasis Wedding Chapel as soon as possible. Can you make that happen?”

“I’ll do my best,” he says. “Going to a wedding?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding. “But with any luck, we’ll be stopping it.”

The driver grins and steps on the gas. I get the fare and a sizable tip ready and spend the rest of the trip doing deep-breathing exercises to calm my nerves. My experience simulating childbirth wasn’t all for naught.

Twenty minutes later, I’m still not calm, but I’m ready for showtime anyway. As soon as the cab pulls to a complete stop, I rush to the trunk and unload everyone’s bags. After surveying the complex, I blow out a harsh breath. I expected a small white chapel, like the ones I’ve seen in countless movies. What I get instead is a maze of small gray and blue buildings and immaculately landscaped grounds in the middle of a glittery concrete town. Thankfully, one of the buildings is marked with an “Enter Here” sign. I point it out to the tias. “Over there.”