Chapter 2 - The Porcelain Stiletto
The silence of the graveyard was not peaceful.
It was a suffocating, pressurized quiet.
A beige stiletto heel dug violently into the soft mud just inches from the kneeling woman’s leg.
The pointed heel sank entirely, swallowed by the wet earth.
Above the red dress loomed a figure dressed in blinding white.
An immaculate trench coat cut through the grey fog like a blade.
The fabric was crisp, unyielding, and entirely untouched by the rain.
The blonde woman inside the coat stood with her feet planted firmly apart.
Her posture was rigid, a perfect vertical line of absolute authority.
Her chest rose and fell in sharp, shallow intervals.
The gold buttons on her coat caught the dull, diffused light of the overcast sky.
She stared down at the wet black hair.
Her jaw was locked so tightly that the muscles in her neck stood out like cords of wire.
She slowly raised her right hand.
The sleeve of the white trench coat slid back, revealing a pale wrist and the dull gleam of a platinum watch.
The air around her hand seemed to drop ten degrees.
Her perfectly manicured fingers curled slightly backward.
She held the breath in her lungs.
May you like
The fabric of her coat rustled sharply in the wind.
It sounded like dry paper tearing in a quiet room.
