Chapter 5 - The Anatomy of a Mother
Carol stepped backward, her arms spread wide like wings.
She kept Caleb entirely behind her.
Her left hand reached back, blindly searching until her fingers brushed his hair. She kept them there, a heavy, reassuring anchor.
Her right hand pointed straight at Eleanor's chest.
Her index finger trembled slightly. Not from fear. From adrenaline.
"Don't."
Eleanor straightened her blouse.
She brushed an invisible speck of dust from her collar. Her breathing was fast, but she kept her chin tilted up.
She looked at Carol, then down at the sandal still clutched in her hand.
She didn't drop it.
Caleb whimpered. It was a tiny, broken sound.
Carol’s back stiffened. The fabric of her blazer pulled taut across her shoulders.
She didn't look back at him. She couldn't take her eyes off the weapon.
"He's six."
Her voice cracked on the number.
"Touch him again."
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It wasn't a threat. It was a promise, written in the rigid line of her spine.
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