Chapter 2
The sudden plunge into absolute darkness swallowed the glittering reception hall whole, leaving only the terrified gasps of high-society guests to fill the heavy void. Eleanor stood frozen, the phantom pressure of Marcus’s bruising grip still burning into her bare arm. In the blackout, the fierce argument between her new husband and her brother evaporated, replaced by a collective, primal dread. The crystal chandeliers overhead remained dead, their amber brilliance instantly snuffed out as if choked by an invisible hand.
"Stay right where you are, everyone! Keep calm, venue management is on it!" Marcus’s voice boomed through the gloom, authoritative and laced with a sharp, controlled panic that betrayed his outward composure.
Eleanor’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. In the pitch black, her maternal instincts kicked in with blinding urgency.
"Leo!" she whispered, her voice a desperate, trembling breath. "Leo, baby, where are you?"
She fumbled blindly across the carpeted floor, her heavy lace skirt tangling around her ankles like a snare. The ambient light from the emergency exit signs cast a sickly, greenish hue across the far wall, stretching long, distorted shadows that danced like phantoms. She remembered the toddler standing near the dark wooden table just moments before the lights failed. Had he been frightened by the sudden crash? Had someone taken advantage of the chaos to snatch him from the room?
Her trembling fingers brushed against the cool wood of the mahogany table, sweeping over abandoned silverware and shattered crystal.
"Eleanor? Don't move, I'm coming to you," Marcus muttered, his footsteps approaching from the left, heavy and calculated.
"Find the boy!" Julian’s voice suddenly cut through the room from the opposite direction, frantic and enraged. "Marcus locked the side service doors right before the power cut! Somebody blocked the exit!"
Before Eleanor could process her brother's alarming revelation, a small, warm hand slipped quietly into her own trembling palm. She gasped, looking down through the dim greenish haze. It was Leo. He held up a crumpled paper tissue he had managed to secure from the table before the lights went out, offering it to her with that same serene, unnerving calmness. He wasn't crying. He simply looked up at her, pointing a small finger toward the service corridor behind the main stage.
Kneeling down in her expensive gown, Eleanor pulled the boy tightly against her chest, shielding him from the escalating shouting match erupting across the room.
"We need to get out of here right now," she whispered fiercely to Julian, who had just materialized beside them out of the gloom.
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Julian’s face was deathly pale in the emergency light as he reached into his tuxedo pocket and pulled out a heavy, blood-stained velvet box that didn't belong to them.
"We can't leave, El," Julian breathed, his eyes wide with stark terror. "Look at what dropped out of the fuse box when I tried to force the back door open."
