Chapter 2 - A Mother’s Agony
From across the courtyard, near the grand archway of the conservatory, Maya Vance froze. The sound of that specific cry—a guttural, terror-stricken screech—did not register as sound; it hit her like a physical blow to the sternum, violently knocking the breath from her lungs.
Her light blue silk gown swished wildly as she broke into an ungraceful, frantic sprint. She threw herself through the crowd, shoving aside wealthy heiresses and corporate magnates without a word of apology. Her soft brunette waves tumbled around her shoulders, her brown eyes wide with absolute, primal horror as she saw her daughter struggling in the pit of black sludge.
"Baby! Oh my god, baby!" Maya screamed, her voice fracturing under the sheer weight of panic.
She did not care about the three-thousand-dollar dress she wore, nor the whispers of the spectators calling her a hysterical commoner. Maya dropped heavily to her knees at the edge of the pit, the cold, wet mud immediately soaking through her blue silk, staining her skin. Ignoring the sharp stones cutting into her shins, she reached deep into the mire, her hands sliding beneath Chloe’s slippery, shivering armpits.
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With a desperate heave, Maya yanked her child from the suction of the clay and pulled her tightly against her chest.
"Who did this to you? Who did this?!" Maya sobbed frantically, using her own sleeves to wipe the heavy, suffocation-inducing mud from Chloe’s eyes, nose, and mouth. The child’s chest heaved violently, her little hands clutching at Maya’s neck with a desperate, claw-like grip. Mud smeared across Maya’s pale skin, ruining her face and hair, but she barely felt it. She rocked the trembling child, her mind spiraling into a dark, suffocating abyss of realization. This was no accident. The string of balloons had been tied intentionally to a floating rig near the trellis. Someone had placed Chloe there. Someone wanted the child humiliated—or broken.
