Chapter 4 - THE TWENTY-SECOND MARK
The hallway fell into absolute, terrifying silence.
The only sound was the muffled rustle of Madison’s tulle dress against Clara’s shirt.
David’s thumb tapped the screen twice.
The blue light of the phone reflected in his pupils as the timeline scrubbed backward.
00:08.
00:05.
00:02.
On the tiny high-definition display, the video played with absolute clarity.
Evelyn standing on the fifth step.
Madison holding a small plastic cup.
Evelyn’s right hand reaching out, her palm pressing firmly into the small of the child’s back, giving a deliberate, sharp shove.
David stared at the screen.
The color slowly drained from his face, replaced by a deep, dark flush that crept up from beneath his blue collar.
The muscle in his jaw twitched once, twice, three times.
He didn't look up from the phone.
"You pushed my daughter?" David whispered.
The tone was so low, so gut-wrenchingly cold, that even Evelyn’s calm posture faltered for a fraction of a second.
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"David..." Evelyn began, taking another step down. "She was disobeying me—"
"You pushed my three-year-old child down the stairs," David said again, his voice rising into a roar that shook the glass sconces on the wall.
