Chapter 10 - The Echo in the Kitchen
The camera pulled tight.
It zoomed past David’s frozen back. Past Carol’s trembling hands.
It locked onto Eleanor’s face in an extreme close-up.
The victim act was gone.
The haughty authority was gone.
Her jaw went slack. The wrinkles around her eyes stretched tight as her eyes widened in pure, unadulterated shock.
She stared at the boy.
She had built a fortress of lies in the dark, and a six-year-old had just brought a torch inside.
David stood up slowly.
The sound of his wet, sticky knees separating from the marble floor filled the room.
He didn't look at his mother. He looked at the floor.
The beige sandal lay next to the orange puddle.
The stain was permanent now. The marble had soaked it in.
No amount of wiping would ever get it entirely clean.
May you like
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How would you like to explore the father's reaction in the immediate aftermath of this silence?
