Chapter 1 - The Weight of Marble
The frame opens in a bright, luxurious kitchen.
Cream-colored cabinetry stretches toward the ceiling, gleaming under natural sunlight.
Claire’s cheek is pressed flat against the freezing light stone floor.
The beige silk of her blouse sticks to her skin.
A dark, heavy red swelling pulses near her collarbone, stretching the delicate fabric.
Above her, a thick string of real pearls clacks aggressively.
The sound echoes against the granite walls.
The older woman stands over her, breathing in sharp, uneven gasps.
Her teal skirt suit is immaculate, contrasting violently with the heavy metal mop handle gripped in her manicured fists.
Her knuckles are entirely white.
Five feet away, the doorway frames a spectator.
Ryan stands perfectly still.
His light blue button-down shirt is perfectly ironed, tucked neatly into grey trousers.
His hands are casually buried deep in his pockets.
He watches the metal pole rise into the air.
He does not blink.
May you like
He does not step forward.
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