Chapter 4 - The Edge of the Iris
The air in the dining room became completely weightless and thin.
The camera zoomed into an extreme close-up of Michael’s face.
His jaw dropped a fraction of an inch, his dark brown eyes widening until the whites were completely visible around his irises.
A single bead of sweat formed at the hairline near his temple, glistening under the high-contrast light.
He didn't turn his head to look at his wife.
He stayed on his knees, his hands hovering uselessly above his mother’s maroon dress.
The shot cut instantly to an extreme close-up of Chloe’s eye.
Her blonde hair framed the left side of the lens, her skin pale except for the bright, burning red scratch on her cheek.
Her blue iris dilated in slow motion.
A single, thick tear gathered at the inner corner of her eye, holding its weight for three seconds.
It didn't fall.
Her eyelid twitched twice, her lower lash catching the light from the window.
She didn't make a sound. Her breath didn't even hitch.
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Only the wet sheen over her iris reflected the shattered goblets and the dark wine pooling on the table.
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