Chapter 11
The entire dressing room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence that lasted for five agonizing seconds.
The lead police officer stepped past William, taking the manila envelope directly from Emma’s yellow-gloved hands.
The officer scanned the Swiss death certificate, his face darkening as he looked at Isabella kneeling on the floor.
“Mr. Sterling, stay right where you are,” the officer commanded, pulling his radio from his utility belt.
“Unit 4 to Central, I need immediate medical support and secondary units at the Sterling Estate on 5th Avenue.”
William ignored the officer, turning and sprinting out of the room toward the grand stairwell leading to the garden.
Isabella saw her chance; she scrambled off the floor, lunging for the fallen suppressed pistol on the carpet.
Emma reacted instantly, swinging her scraper tool down and knocking the weapon across the room behind the sofa.
The second police officer tackled Isabella to the carpet, securing her arms behind her back with heavy steel cuffs.
“Get your hands off me! I am Mrs. Sterling!” Isabella screamed, her elegant facade disintegrating into pure rage.
Emma didn't stay to watch her struggle; she turned and ran down the stairs behind William.
They burst through the back service entrance onto the damp lawn, sprinting toward the thick boxwood hedges.
William dropped to his knees in the wet grass, crying out his son’s name into the dark night air.
“Ethan! Ethan, where are you, buddy?” William sobbed, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
May you like
A small figure stepped out from the bushes, holding Emma’s phone in his trembling hands.
“Dad?” Ethan whispered.
