Chapter 1: The Flashing Lights
Chapter 1: The Flashing Lights
The wail of the sirens grew deafening before abruptly cutting off outside the Whitmore Hotel. Red and blue lights pulsed through the sheer ballroom curtains, casting an eerie strobe effect over the frozen wedding guests.
Preston finally dropped the blood-stained oak menu board. It hit the marble floor with a hollow clatter.
Two paramedics rushed through the double doors, followed closely by three Chicago police officers. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. I didn't look at my parents. I didn't look at the bride. I only looked at the paramedic who gently lifted Sophie from my arms.
"She's conscious, but her pulse is racing. Laceration to the left temporal region," the paramedic called out to his partner, pressing a thick gauze pad against my daughter's head. "We need to move her now."
As I stood to follow them, a heavy hand grabbed my arm. It was my father. "Evelyn, tell them it was an accident. Do not ruin this family."
I yanked my arm away, the blood on my hands smearing his tailored tuxedo sleeve. "I am not your family anymore," I snarled.
An officer approached, his hand resting on his utility belt. "Ma'am, what happened here?"
Preston stepped forward, smoothing his lapels, his golden-boy mask sliding perfectly back into place. "Officer, it was a misunderstanding. The little girl slipped while trying to run away. She had stolen my phone—"
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"He hit her," I interrupted, my voice slicing through the silent room. I pointed a trembling, blood-soaked finger straight toward the ceiling above the entrance. "And that security camera caught every single second of it."
Preston’s smug expression instantly evaporated. He looked up. The tiny red light was blinking.
