Chapter 3 - THE LOGIC OF EMPTY ROOMS
The little girl dropped to her knees.
The tulle fabric of her light pink dress pooled around her on the cold stone.
She ignored the woman in the beige gown completely.
Her tiny, trembling fingers reached for the broken pieces of the red crayon.
She pressed the two halves together, pushing the wax until her fingertips slipped.
They wouldn't stay together.
A single, heavy tear broke free, carving a wet path down her flushed cheek.
She looked up, past the sparkling beige fabric, past the rhinestone heels.
She looked directly at the large man in the dark suit standing in the background.
"Daddy, when do I have to leave?"
Her voice was incredibly small, vibrating with the fragile pitch of a breaking glass string.
"My toothbrush isn't in the bathroom anymore."
The little girl wiped her nose with the sleeve of her white cardigan, leaving a smudge of red wax on the pristine yarn.
"If my toothbrush is gone, my mouth doesn't belong here."
The man’s heavy shoulders stiffened.
The crystal glass in his hand let out a faint, high-pitched whine as his grip tightened around the cylinder.
He did not look at his daughter.
He looked directly at the back of the blonde woman’s head.
The ambient chatter of the wedding guests seemed to fade, replaced by a heavy, atmospheric pressure.
The air in the ballroom suddenly felt too thin to breathe.
The man slowly placed his glass onto a passing waiter’s silver tray.
He didn't make a sound, but the heavy creak of his leather shoes as he pivoted echoed like a drumbeat.
May you like
He began to walk forward.
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