Chapter 4 - The Performance
A door slammed open somewhere in the distance. The frantic, heavy thud of running footsteps echoed through the hallway. Ethan. Emily’s eyes widened, a flicker of desperate hope igniting within her. She tried to cry out, but only a ragged, thin sound escaped.
'Ethan!' she finally managed to gasp, her voice cracking like dry wood.
He rounded the corner, his face a landscape of absolute panic. He was in a light blue shirt, his chest heaving, his eyes darting frantically from his mother to his wife. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the pristine floor, his hands hovering over Emily as if he were terrified that even a touch might break her further.
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'Emily! Oh god, Emily, what happened?' he cried out, his voice trembling.
Before Emily could articulate the words, the shift in the room was palpable. Margaret, who had been looming like a vulture, suddenly pulled back, her face transforming in a heartbeat. Her eyes welled with moisture, her hand went to her throat, and she let out a soft, wounded sound of betrayal. It was a performance so polished it made Emily feel sick. The predator had disappeared, replaced by the grieving, innocent matriarch.
