Chapter 3 - The Statue in Cream
Elise stood perfectly still, watching the tiny pink shape shudder against the wooden beam.
Her manicured fingernails, painted a delicate shade of dusty rose, tapped a slow, rhythmic beat against her opposite elbow.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The persistent, choked hiccups coming from the child were giving her a sharp headache behind her temple.
It was an unrefined, grating noise that disrupted the tranquil harmony of her afternoon.
It ruined the carefully constructed aesthetic of the suburban paradise she had married into.
She pulled her shoulders back, fixing her posture.
Her neck remained long and slender, her chin elevated.
The child had managed to smear dirt all over the base of the white-painted timber.
Elise despised messes above all else—dirt, clutter, and unearned emotion were all signs of a weak mind.
She raised a tall glass of iced water to her lips with a slow, deliberate hand.
Clear condensation beaded on the crystal glass, running down to wet her smooth, cool fingers.
She took a small, controlled sip, allowing the ice-cold water to soothe her throat.
"Quiet now," she murmured under her breath.
Her tone was flat, lacking any warmth or edge.
The child didn't stop. The small body jerked violently with another dry hiccup, her feet kicking up more loose soil onto the pristine dress.
Elise let out a long, measured sigh that barely parted her glossed lips.
She uncrossed her arms, letting her hands fall gracefully to her sides.
She prepared to step off the polished concrete patio onto the damp lawn to enforce silence once and for all.
Before her foot touched the grass, she tilted her ankles to inspect the soles of her designer nude pumps.
She couldn't afford to get wet soil trapped in the suede heels.
Suddenly, a fresh wave of panic seized the child, and Sophie let out a sharp, ragged scream that echoed off the high brick garden walls.
Elise’s jaw clenched tightly.
A tiny, furious vein throbbed briefly near her hairline.
Discipline was necessary.
If Arthur wouldn't break the girl's stubborn, willful nature, then she would have to do it herself.
She took one firm step off the concrete.
Her high heel sank half an inch into the soft turf with a faint squelching sound.
May you like
Right at that second, a towering dark shadow fell across the sunlit floor of the living room behind her.
---
