Chapter 2 - The Shattered Table and the Crimson Fall
The cold marble surface of the heavy cake stand caught the ambient glow of the garden lights as Veronica’s fingers wrapped around its edge. For a split second, the background noise of the party—the soft murmur of conversation, the distant clinking of crystal glasses, the gentle rustle of oak leaves in the autumn wind—seemed to vanish entirely. I froze, my eyes locked onto her knuckles, which had turned stark white from the force of her grip.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sudden roaring in my ears.
Veronica didn't answer. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, her chest heaving beneath the emerald silk of her dress. Her face was flushed, twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated resentment that had clearly been festering for years and had finally found a physical target.
"Veronica, put that down!" Dererick's voice cut through the air like a whip. He had been talking to Craig near the far edge of the stone terrace, but the sudden shift in the crowd's energy had caught his attention. He was already sprinting across the lawn, his expression a terrifying mix of disbelief and panic.
"You think you're so fragile?" Veronica shrieked, her voice echoing off the stone walls of the mansion. "You think you rule this family just because you're carrying a child?"
Before anyone could cross the distance to stop her, she didn't throw the stand at me—instead, she violently shoved the massive table supporting the multi-tiered dessert display directly toward the wooden bench where I was sitting.
The heavy mahogany table groaned in protest as it slid across the stone patio, its legs catching on an uneven groove between the flagstones. With a sickening screech of splintering wood and shattering porcelain, the entire structure tilted violently.
"Look out!" someone screamed from the crowd.
Instinct took over. Despite my eight-month-pregnant belly, my swollen ankles, and the crushing exhaustion in my spine, I scrambled backward off the bench, trying to clear the path of the falling debris. But my flats caught on the hem of my long navy dress.
My foot twisted awkwardly beneath me.
With a sharp, agonizing wrench, my ankle gave out, and I slammed hard onto my right side directly against the jagged edge of a fallen marble tier.
A white-hot bolt of pain tore through my lower abdomen, sharp and blinding, unlike anything I had ever felt in my life. The breath left my lungs in a violent rush.
"Oh my god!" a woman shrieked near the buffet.
The garden plunged into a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the sound of Dererick’s heavy footsteps skidding across the stone. He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands hovering over my body, trembling so violently he could barely touch me.
"Maya! Maya, look at me!" Dererick yelled, his voice cracking with sheer terror as his eyes swept over the wreckage and then down to my body. "Baby, talk to me! What happened?"
I couldn't speak. The pain in my stomach felt like a iron band tightening around my internal organs, squeezing the life out of me. As I pressed a trembling hand against my lower abdomen, my fingers brushed against something warm and wet.
I pulled my hand back into the light of the string lamps.
It was covered in dark, unmistakable crimson.
"Dererick," I gasped out, the word tearing through my throat like broken glass. "My... my baby."
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Dererick’s gaze dropped to my hand, and the color drained completely from his face, leaving him a ghastly, translucent grey. He looked up at his family, who were standing frozen a few feet away, Pamela’s hand flying to her mouth and Veronica staring down at her own trembling fingers with sudden, horrifying comprehension.
"Call an ambulance!" Dererick roared, his voice shaking the quiet estate. "Somebody call an ambulance right now or I swear to God I will tear this place apart!"
