Chapter 1 - The Sound of the Slap
The sharp, cracking sound of flesh striking flesh echoed like a gunshot through the vaulted ceilings of the Savannah chapel. My sister, Vanessa, had slapped me so hard beside our mother’s casket that the arrangement of white lilies resting on the mahogany lid actually shook, dropping a single, bruised petal onto the polished wood.
The chapel went entirely silent.
It was not a respectful, grieving silence. It was a hungry, predatory silence. It was the exact kind of silence people make when they desperately want to watch someone bleed but still need to pretend they are civilized, God-fearing folk.
“You don’t get to cry here,” Vanessa hissed.
Her voice was a venomous whisper, carrying easily in the dead quiet room. The delicate black veil attached to her expensive funeral hat trembled over her flawlessly made-up face.
“You didn’t love her. You left her.”
I stood perfectly still, tasting the sharp, metallic tang of blood pooling inside my cheek where my teeth had bitten into the soft tissue. I did not raise a hand to soothe the stinging red mark I knew was blooming across my face.
Standing directly behind Vanessa was my stepfather, Richard Vale. He rested one manicured hand heavily on her shoulder. He looked exactly like a proud, arrogant king presenting his favorite, most lethal weapon to the court. Around us, the pews were packed. Cousins I hadn't seen in a decade, nosy neighbors, gossiping church ladies, and my mother’s old coworkers stared at me from between the flickering candles and massive floral wreaths.
Nobody moved a muscle. Nobody stepped forward to defend me.
My mother lay cold and still in the casket just inches away, wearing the elegant pearl earrings I had purchased for her three Christmases ago. Vanessa had brazenly told everyone in town that they were hers.
May you like
I looked at my furious sister. Then I shifted my gaze to Richard’s smug face. Finally, I looked down at the casket. I did not raise my voice. I did not show an ounce of the fear they were hoping for.
“Are you finished?” I asked simply.
