Chapter 4 - THE GOLDEN MATRIARCH
Before the father could take three steps, the heavy oak double doors of the ballroom swung open.
The brass hinges groaned in protest against the sudden force.
An elderly woman stepped onto the marble floor.
She stood impeccably straight, wrapped in a structured suit of heavy gold brocade that seemed to absorb the chandelier's light.
Her silver hair was coiffed flawlessly, framing a face lined with decades of ruthless elegance.
Flanking her were four large men in identical black tuxedos.
Each man carried two stacked, brown cardboard boxes.
The thick black ink of a permanent marker was visible on the side of every carton.
The letters spelled out: Ellie.
The golden matriarch stopped ten feet away from the scattered crayons.
Her dark eyes flicked from the weeping child on the floor to the blonde woman in the beige gown.
She tapped the tip of her wooden cane once against the marble.
"She already emptied the child's room."
The older woman’s voice was a low, resonant baritone that commanded the entire hall.
She gestured toward the cardboard boxes with a slight tilt of her chin.
"The toys. The clothes. The bedsheets."
The blonde woman spun around, her sparkling gown swishing violently around her ankles.
The blood drained rapidly from her face, leaving her pale beneath her expensive makeup.
She opened her mouth, her hands fluttering defensively toward her diamond necklace.
She couldn't find any words.
The physical evidence of her cruelty was literally boxed up and presented in the center of the room.
The child logic echoed in the silent hall again.
You put things in boxes when you don't want to look at them anymore.
The little girl on the floor pulled her knees into her chest, making herself as small as a cardboard box.
May you like
The father reached the center of the floor.
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