Chapter 3 - THE TOXIC TABLE
Ethan stood up slowly, keeping one hand resting protectively on Luke's shoulder.
His wife, Clara, rushed from the side garden in a yellow floral dress, her face pale as she pulled Luke into her arms.
Evelyn remained standing by the table, a faint, dismissive smile playing on her lips.
"Don't be dramatic, Ethan," Evelyn said, waving her hand casually.
"It's just water. The boy is lying to get attention, just like his mother does."
Behind her, a small group of elderly garden party guests paused, their wine glasses held halfway to their lips.
Ethan’s chest heaved.
The muscle in his jaw clenched so hard his teeth clicked together.
He looked at the long banquet table beside them—covered in white linen, multi-tiered cakes, and delicate silver trays of pastries.
He took one step forward.
May you like
His dark eyes locked onto his mother’s face.
"He is five years old," Ethan whispered.
