Chapter 1 - The birthday floor
My sister slapped Aubrielle across the face on her sixth birthday.
I saw the end of it.
Not the beginning.
I had been scheduled to return from Chicago the following morning, but the client dinner was canceled and I caught an earlier flight.
I wanted to surprise Aubrielle.
Instead, I walked through my mother’s front door and heard a child crying.
The party was being held in the sunroom and adjoining garden.
Balloons.
Pink and gold paper flowers.
A three-tier birthday cake.
Twenty-three guests.
A tablet on a stand near the piano livestreaming the celebration to my mother, Eleanor Bennett, who was recovering from pneumonia at her lake house and had been ordered not to travel.
Then I saw Aubrielle.
On the floor.
Her small crown beside her.
Gift boxes scattered around her.
Marietta stood above her in a pale cream dress.
My sister.
Thirty-six.
Beautiful.
Controlled.
Smiling.
“Birthday cake is for wanted children.”
I stopped.
For one second I did not understand what I was seeing.
Then Aubrielle looked toward me.
“Daddy.”
I dropped my bag.
Crossed the room.
She tried to stand too quickly and stumbled.
I caught her.
Her cheek was red.
“What happened?”
She buried her face against me.
“Daddy… she gave my presents to her daughter.”
I looked past her.
Marietta’s daughter, Claire, stood near the cake holding two gift bags that had Aubrielle’s name written on the tags.
Claire looked frightened.
Not triumphant.
That mattered.
Marietta folded her arms.
“Your little charity case ruined the party anyway.”
Something inside me snapped.
I put Aubrielle behind me.
Grabbed the birthday cake.
Threw it.
The entire thing hit Marietta across the face and chest.
Frosting.
Sponge.
Pink sugar flowers.
She stumbled backward blindly and went down beside the gift table.
Guests screamed.
Claire started crying.
I stopped immediately.
One action.
No second throw.
No rushing toward her.
Marietta pushed herself upright.
Her hair was covered in frosting.
“You lunatic.”
Then:
“Touch me again, and your mother cuts you off.”
I looked toward the tablet.
Green connection light.
Still live.
My mother had been watching.
I said:
“She already watched you hit Aubrielle.”
Marietta went pale.
Then the tablet speaker crackled.
My mother’s voice came through.
“Weston.”
Everyone turned.
Eleanor’s face appeared on-screen.
She looked exhausted.
And furious.
“Do not let Marietta leave.”
My sister stared at the tablet.
“Mom.”
May you like
Eleanor answered:
“I heard every word.”
