THE GLASS CHANDELIER

The night grew darker, the storm outside turning into a full-blown gale that rattled the grand stained-glass windows of the Vance estate.

Inside her bedroom, Lily sat on her bed, quietly drawing with colored pencils. The mark on her forehead had turned into a dull blue bruise, but her cheeks were no longer wet with tears. She looked up as Marissa entered the room, sliding a warm smile onto her face despite the emotional exhaustion tearing her apart inside.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" Marissa asked gently, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"I'm okay," Lily said softly, laying down her red pencil. "Is Uncle Gareth coming back?"

"No, baby," Marissa said, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Lily's face. "Uncle Gareth won't be coming back for a very long time."

"Good," Lily whispered, looking down at her drawing. "He was mean. He smelled like sour wine when he pushed me."

Marissa’s heart ached. She pulled Lily into a tight hug, burying her face in her daughter's hair. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. I won't let them."

"Mommy?" Lily asked quietly into her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Grandma came into my room before the party yesterday," Lily murmured. "She gave me a candy and told me to leave my backpack open near the coat rack so Uncle Gareth could put a special present inside for me."

Marissa froze, her lungs completely seizing up. Her grip on Lily tightened involuntarily before she forced herself to relax, keeping her voice completely steady so as not to scare her child.

"Grandma told you that?" Marissa asked carefully.

"Uh-huh," Lily nodded. "She said it was a secret game for the wedding."

The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place with horrifying precision. Eleanor hadn't just known about the plan—she had actively manipulated the eight-year-old child into facilitating her own framing, ensuring that the boy wouldn't fail his execution.