The ceremony began with a slip. As Mia took Daniel’s hand, the pianist’s music cut to silence—the power had failed. A murmur ran through the chapel. Candles flickered. Someone scrambled for a generator. Mia felt the world tilt. She wasn’t scared, but there was that old feeling: this was the sort of thing that tests you.
Guests fanned into the aisle, phones glowing like small stars. The officiant smiled too tightly and joked about modern weddings. Daniel squeezed Mia’s hand, voice steady. “We’ll keep going.” Behind him, Eleanor’s face was unreadable—soft concern practiced with the skill of someone accustomed to managing crises from a distance.
After a small hush, the musician found a battery-powered speaker and the vows resumed. Mia’s dress brushed the aisle as she walked. Every eye was on them, the moment both fragile and bright. When the power returned mid-ceremony, the applause felt oddly delayed, as if everyone had waited to see whether the day would survive the first jolt…