Chapter 2 - Under the Cold Black Glass
The impact with the fountain pool shattered the courtyard silence like a detonating cannon.
A massive geyser of illuminated water exploded upward into the warm night air, drenching the surrounding stone tiles.
Frigid water swallowed Clara whole, slamming into her ears and nostrils with disorienting force.
The pale blue satin of her dress instantly absorbed gallons of water, turning into a heavy, suffocating shroud around her limbs.
The sudden shock of cold drove the breath straight from her lungs, replacing it with a burning reflex to gasp.
Under the churning surface, the golden lights of the estate chandeliers warped into ghostly, dancing ribbons of fire.
Clara’s hands clawed through the pressurized liquid, desperate to find the bottom or reach the surface.
Her chest heaved violently against the drag of the soaked satin gown, her silver heels acting like anchors against her ankles.
She breached the surface for a fraction of a second, coughing violently and spraying water from her lips.
Her hazel eyes bulged with raw panic as she tried to gulp in air, but another mouthful of fountain spray choked her throat.
Her chestnut-brown hair plastered across her face in thick, blinding ropes, obscuring her vision entirely.
Around the fountain, the surrounding guests gasped and recoiled in paralyzed disbelief.
Women clutched their pearl necklaces, and men in tailored black tuxedos stepped back from the cascading spray.
Nobody moved to help, held hostage by the sheer social taboo of the billionaire hostess’s unhinged assault.
Victoria stood elevated on the fountain’s dry stone rim, looking down into the churning water with triumphant, manic pleasure.
Her chest heaved with exertion, her crimson gown vibrant against the dark night, her eyes gleaming with sickening satisfaction.
She pointed a rigid, manicured finger at Clara’s thrashing form, watching her stepdaughter submerge once more.
Clara went under a second time, her fingers slipping on the algae-slick marble floor of the pool.
The weight of the wet fabric wrapped around her thighs, dragging her down into the cold dark pool.
Fear, cold and absolute, clamped down on her heart as her strength began to fail.
She could hear the muffled, frantic shouts of the surface world fading into a hollow, underwater roar.
Her vision began to speckle with gray dots as her lungs screamed for oxygen.
She pushed upward with all her remaining will, breaking the surface with a desperate, strangled sob.
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Her shivering fingers scraped frantically against the outer stone coping, unable to find leverage to hoist her body out.
She was drowning in front of thirty people, completely helpless in the center of her father’s magnificent garden.
