Chapter 1 - THE PALACE OF GLASS
A medium shot inside a luxury mansion lobby.
A pregnant young woman in a grey satin dress stands crying at the bottom of a grand wooden staircase, her face showing red swelling and bruises.
A young man in a black suit stands close, facing her angrily.
On the stairs behind them, an elegant elderly woman in a dark purple velvet dress and pearl necklace stands looking down coldly.
The background features warm chandelier lighting and polished wooden steps.
The camera is static.
The slap left a hot, throbbing imprint across the soft skin of her cheekbone.
The sound bounced off the high-domed ceiling of the foyer, dying a slow death among the crystal pendants of the chandelier.
Her right hand flew up, fingertips lightly brushing against the rising, purple-red bruise near her eye.
She stumbled backward, her grey satin dress whispering against the polished hardwood floor.
Her lower spine hit the bottom newel post of the grand staircase with a dull, hollow thud.
She didn't cry out from the pain in her bone.
She cried because of the heavy, suffocating weight pressing down on her lower abdomen.
Her left hand dropped automatically, flattening protectively over the gentle swell of her four-month pregnancy.
Her fingernails dug through the silk fabric, curling into tight, frantic half-moons against her skin.
Above her, the rhythmic, slow click of low-heeled shoes marked a descent.
The elderly woman in the dark purple velvet dress glided down the steps.
Each step was calculated, measured, dripping with an aristocratic venom that made the air feel thin.
The heavy ropes of artificial pearls around her neck clicked together like chattering teeth.
The young man in the black suit—his white shirt unbuttoned at the throat, exposing skin slick with sudden, angry sweat—stepped closer.
He pointed a stiff, trembling index finger straight into his wife’s face.
"How dare you speak to my mother like that in my house?!"
His voice cracked on the final word, pitching upward into an ugly, juvenile shriek.
The pregnant woman lifted her chin.
Her lips were split, a tiny bead of dark copper blood pooling at the corner of her mouth.
She wiped it away with the back of her wrist, leaving a faint crimson smear on her pale skin.
"Your mother humiliated me and you heard every word!"
Her voice trembled, vibrating with a raw, exhausted fury.
The elderly woman reached the bottom of the stairs.
She stopped two feet away.
She did not look at the bruise on the girl's face.
She looked down her nose as if inspecting a stain on an expensive rug.
"Know your place."
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The words were spoken softly, effortlessly, like a queen dismissing a servant who had dropped a glass.
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