Chapter 6 - The Masterpiece
The waitress’s hands were shaking so violently that she had to press them flat against the fabric of her black skirt.
A single tear broke free, carving a wet line through her pristine makeup.
She looked from the terrified child in the dark hole to the glittering, frozen woman in the emerald dress.
"Why is she tied up?"
The waitress’s voice cracked, fracturing the pristine silence of the luxury corridor.
The wealthy woman did not blink.
She didn't look at the waitress.
Her diamond necklace shifted slightly as she took a single, deliberate breath.
"Put the painting back."
Her tone was entirely flat.
It was an order devoid of malice, which made it infinitely more terrifying.
The waitress stood paralyzed, her hand hovering halfway between the golden frame and the child's rope.
From the absolute darkness of the wooden compartment, the little girl let out a small, trembling sigh.
She rested her chin on her bound, rope-burned wrists.
"It's okay, miss."
The child looked at the waitress with wide, hollow eyes.
"I'm just a messy sketch."
She tucked her pink bows deeper into the shadows.
"Mommy says only perfect pictures get to stay in the light."
The waitress’s chest collapsed inward.
The wealthy woman reached out her own hand.
Her skin was perfectly manicured, adorned with a heavy emerald ring.
She grabbed the edge of the golden frame.
With a smooth, practiced motion, she swung the heavy classic portrait shut.
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The heavy click of the magnetic latch sealed the wall perfectly.
The hallway was bright, flawless, and completely silent once again.
