The lone wedding picture released to the press—Carolyn and John exiting the chapel, not a hair out of place or a bead of sweat anywhere, John kissing Carolyn’s tulle-gloved hand—was a metaphor for the weekend and the marriage to come: a pre-Instagrammable image that looked perfect and effortless but was really a lie. That quaint little chapel, built by Cumberland’s enslaved workers, had an ugly history. John had not seen the problem with that. Nor had he seen the problem with including Willie, the cousin who had stood trial for rape in the early 1990s, even though the guest list was so small
...more
