Sabrina lay among the white folds of her dress, stunned and struggling to breathe normally.
Her hand had vanished beneath the fabric.
The syringe was nowhere in sight.
“GRACE!”
Ethan’s voice thundered through the ballroom.
I turned.
He stood three feet away, his face drained of color.
“What the hell have you done?”
I pointed at Sabrina.
“She has a syringe! Don’t let her reach beneath that dress!”
Two security guards rushed toward me.
Behind them, Beatrice was still holding Lily’s wrist.
The little girl was trying to pull away.
And Sabrina, despite the terrible blow, had turned her head toward the staircase.
Her eyes weren’t fixed on me.
They were fixed on Lily.
I understood then that the danger hadn’t ended.
“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!” I screamed.
Beatrice released Lily immediately.
The child stumbled backward against the railing.
Security grabbed my arms.
Ethan rushed toward his fallen bride.
And above the terrible commotion, Lily suddenly cried out.
“Daddy, please!”
Her voice cracked.
“Don’t let Sabrina take me into the blue room again!”
Every person near the staircase fell silent.
Because Ethan knew the room she meant.
So did I.
It was the private sitting room where Nora Caldwell used to read bedtime stories to her daughter.
And when Sabrina heard Lily mention it, her expression changed from pain to unmistakable fear.
Then Lily whispered something that made my blood turn cold.
“She told me that after tonight, I wouldn’t be coming home.”
