Chapter 3 - The Name Spoken in Whispers
David immediately dropped to one knee, the rough, damp gravel of the courtyard digging painfully into the fine fabric of his tuxedo trousers, but he didn't care. He reached out with both hands, hovering near her small shoulders, terrified that touching her might shatter whatever fragile thread was keeping her upright. "Lily, sweetheart," he breathed, his voice cracking with a sudden, suffocating panic. "What's wrong? Did you get hurt? Who was over there?" Lily didn't step into his embrace. She didn't bury her tear-stained face into his neck or cry out for comfort as she always did when she was frightened. Instead, she stood completely rigid before him, her wide, tear-filled blue eyes locking onto his with a vacant, chilling intensity that made his breath catch in his throat. Slowly, deliberately, her small hands unclasped. Between her trembling palms lay a small, crudely folded piece of paper. It was yellowed at the edges, slightly crumpled, looking utterly out of place against her pristine white dress. She held it out to him with both hands, offering it like a piece of toxic evidence. Her pale lips parted, trembling violently as she forced out words that sounded far too heavy for her young voice. "Daddy," she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the quiet rustle of the oak leaves above. "Rebecca gave me this." The name hung in the air between them, sharp and deadly, like a drop of poison falling into a clear glass of water. Rebecca. The syllables struck David’s brain with the physical violence of a hammer blow, instantly shattering the carefully constructed walls of his sanity.
