Chapter 4 - The Aftermath in the Penthouse
Back in the high-rise dining room, chocolate frosting smeared across the hardwood floor alongside shattered glass.
Martha sat on the velvet sofa, wiping cake off her burgundy silk blouse with a damp linen napkin.
"You are going to call the police right now and report her for kidnapping, Mark!" Martha shrieked loudly.
Mark sat motionless at the dining table, staring at the empty high chair where his daughter had been sitting minutes ago.
His hands trembled as he pushed his glasses up his nose, the silence of the apartment suffocating him.
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"She took my granddaughter!" Martha screamed, slamming her fist against the mahogany armrest.
"You slapped a three-year-old child, Mother," Mark said, his voice terrifyingly quiet and hollow.
