signalarc

Chapter 2 - The Cost of Sugar

The sharp clatter of a dropped champagne flute shattered the murmurs of the crowd.

A woman in a high-necked, sapphire-blue dress tore through the blurred wall of guests.

Her heels scraped violently against the polished floor, leaving dark rubber streaks on the wood.

She dropped to the ground before her knees even bent fully.

The blue silk of her dress pooled around the little girl’s trembling pink ruffles.

She reached out, her hands shaking, and gently pulled the child’s small fingers away from her head.

A harsh, angry red welt was already rising beneath the girl’s hairline.

The skin was swelling tight, glossy, and hot to the touch.

The mother’s breath hitched, a jagged, animalistic sound tearing through her throat.

She didn't look at the injury for more than a second.

Her head snapped up.

Her dark eyes locked instantly onto the metallic gold sequins of the older woman’s dress.

The grandmother took a half-step back, her posture immediately shifting into defensive mode.

Her grip on the neck of the bottle loosened slightly, the glass slipping in her sweaty palm.

"It slipped!"

The older woman’s voice was high, defensive, coated in a thick layer of artificial shock.

She waved the heavy bottle vaguely in the air, a theatrical, unconvincing gesture of innocence.

The little girl buried her face deep into the blue silk of her mother’s chest.

Her small shoulders heaved with violent, breathless sobs.

"Grandma was angry because I touched her cake."

The child’s voice was muffled by the thick fabric, but the words cut through the dead air of the room like a scalpel.

She raised her small hand, showing her mother the single finger still coated in pink frosting.

"Does the cake cry when you touch it, Mommy?" the girl whispered, her chest shuddering against her mother's ribs.

The little girl sniffled, rubbing her tear-stained cheek against the blue silk.

"If the cake doesn't feel pain... why did my head have to hurt instead?"

May you like

The mother stared at the smear of pink sugar on her daughter's tiny finger.

Her spine stiffened, the muscles locking into absolute, unbending steel.

Related Stories

Other posts