Chapter 2 - The Grievous Reality Behind That Closed Wooden Door
Mark stood frozen on the white tiled floor of the suburban hallway.
His heart hammered violently against his ribs as he stared at the closed white door.
The piercing cries of baby Leo echoed in the background while little Lily sobbed softly against his leg.
With a face hardened by sudden, lethal fury, Mark took a slow, heavy step forward.
The American flag hanging on the wall seemed to witness the unraveling of a dark domestic tragedy.
He raised his right hand, his knuckles white with tension, and gripped the brass doorknob.
A deafening silence fell over the hallway as he twisted the handle and pushed the door wide open.
Inside the master bedroom, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and hidden malice.
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Sarah stood near the vanity mirror, wearing her deep purple dress without a single hair out of place.
She turned around slowly, her expression shifting from mild annoyance into a mask of feigned innocence.
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