John had invited her, of course. He barely kept in touch, but it wouldn't do for him not to invite his own sister to his wedding.
That was just stupid – and goodness, she needed a drink.
She would not have a drink, though; she'd promised John, and she hated to disappoint him.
Except that she always did. Her perfect brother with his perfect life, but for the sister he was ashamed of.
And now she definitely needed that drink – the familiar feeling of alcohol burning at the back of her throat.
One thing was sure; Harriet wouldn't attend the wedding.