Chapter 8 - The Aftermath of Denial
The mother’s knees seemed to weaken beneath her. The polished wood floor beneath her designer heels suddenly felt like thin ice over a deep, dark lake. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out—only a shallow, broken breath that sounded like a sob trapped in her throat.
For months, she had looked the other way, choosing the comfort of her social standing over the safety of her own flesh and blood. She had lived in terror of the whispers, the gossip, the fracturing of her pristine image. Yet, here sat a stranger’s child, bearing the physical scars of the monster she slept beside every night.
