Chapter 5 - The Ghost at the Door
A collective gasp ripples through the room.
Julian’s Mother drops her glass.
The crystal stemware explodes against the floor, red wine pooling like blood near her gold pumps.
Vanessa’s head snaps toward Julian.
Her hand slowly slides off his arm.
"What did he just say?" Vanessa asks, her voice barely a whisper.
Julian doesn't answer her. His eyes are fixed on the far left corner of the hall.
Near the service entrance, the heavy wooden sliding door shudders.
It moves an inch, revealing a dark gap behind it.
The room goes dead silent. Even the air conditioning seems to cut out.
A hand emerges from the darkness to grip the frame.
The skin is gray-pale, the knuckles swollen, with dirt caked under cracked fingernails.
The sliding door grates against its metal track, opening another foot.
A woman stands in the shadow of the doorway.
She wears an oversized brown jacket with frayed sleeves that drown her wrists.
Her dark hair is matted, hanging in limp, damp strands around a sunken face.
Faint, yellowish-purple bruises ring her right eye and jawline.
She blinks against the harsh amber light of the chandeliers, flinching at the brightness.
She looks like a ghost pulled straight out of a damp cellar.
A female guest in the back row covers her mouth with both hands, letting out a stifled cry.
The father doesn't turn around. He stays on his knees, holding Lily tight.
Lily shifts in his arms, her eyes traveling past his shoulder toward the service door.
Her breathing stops.
Her small hands loosen their grip on her father's collar.
The room seems to contract, cold air rushing in through the open sliding door.
May you like
Lily’s lower lip trembles.
"Mommy?"
