Bl00d spreading beneath her head, staining the fabric dark.
And standing over her… Simon.
Calm. Fixing his cufflinks like nothing had happened.
“Get away from her!”
I dropped beside her, lifting her carefully, my hands shaking.
Her face was swollen, b/ruis/ed. One eye nearly shut. Finger marks visible on her neck.
She was breathing.
Barely.
“I’m here, baby… I’ve got you…”
Her fingers weakly grabbed my shirt, her whole body trembling.
Behind me, I heard a glass being filled.
“Relax,” Simon said casually. “She’s overreacting. She fell.”
I looked at the bruises around her throat.
“Did she fall,” I said quietly, “and choke herself on the way down?”
Meredith stepped closer, glancing at the bl00d soaking into the rug.
She sighed, annoyed.
“What a mess,” she muttered. “Simon, I told you to deal with this before dinner. Guests will be here soon.”
Not a person.
Not someone’s daughter.
Just an inconvenience.
And in that moment, whatever restraint I had left… disappeared.
They saw an old man in a worn-out truck.
They had no idea what they had just set off.
