They Crowned the Wrong Sister

Chapter 105: The Wedding Interview

Celeste announced her wedding date on live television.

She chose the fifth anniversary of the day Sterling removed my access and escorted me from the building.

The interviewer called the date romantic.

Celeste smiled beneath a studio arrangement of white flowers and said she and Nathan wanted to honor the moment their future truly began.

The statement was polished enough to sound accidental.

It was not.

Five years earlier, I had spent that date signing an inventory under guard while Nathan stood beside Legal and told me cooperation would protect my professional reputation. By sunset, my badge had failed. By morning, Celeste had moved into the executive-development office across from his.

Now they intended to turn the anniversary into wedding content.

Nathan sat beside her during the interview. He wore the same controlled expression he used in board meetings. The special committee had received his key and statement two days earlier. Celeste held his hand as if nothing between them had changed.

They were still engaged.

He was still Chief Legal Officer.

The public did not know he had said he chose wrong.

The interviewer asked whether family conflict had affected the wedding plans.

"It clarified them," Celeste said. "Nathan never loved Evelyn the way she wanted people to believe. He finally chose the woman suited to stand beside him."

Nathan did not agree aloud.

He did not correct her.

The interviewer asked whether the delayed Northstar transaction threatened the ceremony. Celeste said the merger and the marriage were both moving forward. Northstar had promised only continued review, but her answer made confidence perform the work of a fact.

My professional inbox filled before the interview ended. Reporters asked whether I felt humiliated, whether Nathan's visit to Mercer had been romantic, and whether the wedding date was intended as a message.

Rhea issued one response: Dr. Evelyn Sterling would not comment on a private wedding announcement.

I did not watch the replay.

I did not ask the special committee to examine Nathan's visit because of the interview. His protected intake already sat under rules that applied whether Celeste praised him, married him, or abandoned him.

The date itself already belonged to the special committee calendar. Its independent safety counsel had circulated three possible hearing days for the first review of protected reporting channels. Celeste had chosen one of them without knowing.

At our board session that afternoon, the committee chair asked whether the anniversary created a conflict for me.

"It creates history," I said. "Not a conflict."

"Would you prefer another hearing date?"

The easy answer would have been yes. It would have kept cameras away from the evidence and denied Celeste another story about my jealousy.

But changing a safety proceeding because she had scheduled flowers would let the wedding control the calendar again.

"Choose the date based on witness availability and document readiness," I said. "Do not use my personal history either way."

The committee secretary recorded the instruction.

Mina had not yet been asked to testify. Leah's information remained protected. The initial hearing would address systems, reporting routes, and preservation, not patient histories.

That boundary mattered more than the anniversary.

The committee still had to confirm that independent counsel, safety reviewers, and required records could all be available. My refusal to object did not schedule the hearing by itself.

At the end of the interview, Celeste held up a card printed with the date. The studio audience applauded. Nathan looked at the card, then toward an off-camera monitor.

For one second, his expression lost its training.

He knew what the date meant.

He had helped make it mean that.

After the broadcast, the committee chair sent a calendar hold for an emergency scheduling session the next morning.

Celeste had selected an anniversary for her wedding.

The evidence was about to ask for the same day.