Chapter 1
Leo’s lungs burned as he shoved the heavy oak door open, slamming it back against the pristine white drywall of the foyer. His boots scraped across the polished hardwood, echoing through the sunlit, modern living room. In his right hand, the heavy leather travel bag strained at its seams, filled with hastily packed files, emergency cash, and a few changes of clothing he had grabbed from his downtown office before bolting for the highway. His chest heaved beneath his white collared shirt, and the black suspenders cut sharply into his shoulders, damp with cold sweat. He felt the terrifying weight of the situation crashing down upon him before his eyes even adjusted to the blinding afternoon light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
At the dining table just a few yards away, Eleanor sat with unbothered composure. Dressed in a light beige dress that matched the minimalist aesthetic of the room, she calmly sliced a piece of apple with a small silver knife and raised it to her lips. She chewed slowly, her short brown hair neatly styled, completely ignoring the frantic energy radiating from her son-in-law. Leo’s gaze darted past her, locking onto the sofa. There lay Claire, his twenty-three-year-old wife, motionless. Her long brown hair spilled over the edge of the cushions, and her face was terrifyingly pale against the neutral-toned upholstery.
"Why is Claire unconscious?" Leo demanded, his voice cracking with a mixture of raw panic and rising fury. He dropped the heavy travel bag with a dull thud, the noise swallowed instantly by the vaulted ceilings of the architect-designed home.
May you like
Eleanor swallowed her bite of apple, dabbed her mouth with a cloth napkin, and looked up with mild annoyance, as if Leo had merely interrupted her afternoon snack with a trivial question. "She’s being a drama queen," Eleanor replied nonchalantly, her tone chillingly flat.
Ignoring the dismissal, Leo rushed past the dining area toward the bassinet tucked beside the sofa. Inside, wrapped snugly in a soft blue blanket, their newborn baby let out a faint, innocent chirp, completely oblivious to the tense storm brewing in the living room. Leo scooped the infant up against his chest, his hands trembling violently as he checked the baby’s breathing. He felt a wave of profound relief wash over him upon feeling the steady, warm heartbeat against his palm. Kneeling beside the sofa, he hovered over Claire, his heart breaking as he looked at her limp form. "Claire, tell me what happened," he whispered softly, brushing a stray lock of brown hair from her forehead, desperate for any sign of life.
