Chapter 2 - The Sound of Silk
The crowd of wealthy guests moves back half a step.
Diamond bracelets clink against fine china as arms fold across silk chests.
"A thief at three years old," a woman in emerald satin whispers into her champagne glass.
"Appalling."
The toddler buries her small nose into the crook of her mother’s neck.
Her breath comes in short, ragged hiccups against the wet silk of the nude gown.
"Mommy... the shiny stone was on the floor," the child whimpers, her child-logic struggling against the harsh room.
"It was sleeping under the table."
The man in the tuxedo kicks the edge of the toddler’s dropped ribbon.
"She's lying. Just like her mother."
The mother’s face turns pale, her knuckles turning white as she holds her daughter tighter.
Her lips part, but no words come out.
The silence of the room presses down like heavy wet wool.
Then, a pair of dark navy trousers cuts through the ring of guests.
The footsteps are slow. Heavy. Unhurried.
An older gentleman steps out from the shadow of a high marble pillar.
His hair is silver, slicked back with precision.
His dark navy three-piece suit fits his broad shoulders without a single wrinkle.
A heavy gold signet ring on his left pinky catches the warm light of the chandeliers.
He doesn't look at the crowd.
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He doesn't look at the mother weeping on the floor.
His eyes fixate on the man in the black tuxedo.
