My stepmother smashed my late mother’s precious crystal set to pieces – she had no idea she had been tricked.

The projector screen lit up behind me. The first photo shows me at eight years old. My mother and I were sitting at the kitchen table. She was teaching me how to polish crystal glasses. They shone like magic in the afternoon light.

The audience made a sweet noise of appreciation. Dad wiped his eyes.

Then the second image appeared. The video began to play. Sandra’s voice filled the room, crystal clear through the speakers.

“If Jennifer wants to honor anyone at this wedding, it should be me.”

The crowd fell into complete silence. On the screen, Sandra entered our dining room. She picked up one of the crystal glasses and examined it with cold attention.

“It’s time to get rid of Alice’s precious memories.”

Then he lifted the glass and smashed it on the floor.