Chapter 2 - The Whisper That Echoed In The Dark
The words hung in the air like poison, cold and deliberate.
Mark stood frozen in the center of the dining room, his chest heaving under his tailored light grey suit as the broken ceramic pieces glittered across the dark hardwood floor.
Sarah held the silver smartphone firmly against her ear, blood still trickling down her temple and staining the emerald green silk blouse beneath her collar.
She didn't blink as she pressed the blood-stained white cloth against her forehead, her gaze never wavering from Mark’s widening eyes.
On the other end of the line, a heavy, raspy voice broke the silence through the speaker: “Are you safe, Sarah?”
“No, Dad,” Sarah replied, her voice eerily calm, cutting straight through Mark's remaining bravado. “He just crossed the line.”
Mark took an involuntary step back, his silver tie swinging slightly as panic gripped his throat.
“Sarah, who are you talking to?” Mark stammered, trying to sound intimidating while his voice cracked. “Your father died ten years ago in Virginia!”
Sarah didn't bother answering him; she lowered the phone slowly, her thumb swiping across the screen to terminate the call.
“You spent three years marrying me for my mother’s trust fund, Mark,” Sarah whispered, her eyes burning with icy hatred.
“You thought I was just an orphaned socialite with a trust fund in Delaware and nowhere else to turn.”
The framed vintage US flag hanging on the wood-paneled wall behind her seemed to stand like a silent witness to three years of systematic abuse.
May you like
Outside the tall colonial windows of the Hamptons estate, the sudden sound of heavy vehicle tires crunching over gravel broke the midnight quiet.
Mark’s head snapped toward the window, his face turning the color of chalk as pairs of high-beam headlights illuminated the dark driveway.
