Chapter 8 - The Knock
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Lena sat at the makeup table, her fingers flying across her laptop keyboard as she downloaded the audio feed transmitting from my dress button.
“The audio quality is crystal clear,” Lena whispered, turning the screen toward me.
“The microphone picked up everything—his voice when he grabbed your neck, the impact on the table, and his mother laughing.”
Suddenly, a loud, violent bang rattled the brass handle of the bridal suite door.
“Claire!”
Derek’s voice roared from the hallway outside.
Another heavy knock slammed against the wood, making the frame shudder.
“Open the damn door, Claire! You’ve been in there for ten minutes!”
I pulled out my personal phone, tapped the screen, and started a fresh video recording, positioning it discreetly on the vanity counter pointing directly at the doorway.
“I need a few more minutes, Derek,” I called out, keeping my voice sounding soft and shaken.
“I’m trying to fix my makeup.”
“You’ve had enough time!” Derek snapped.
Then Patricia’s sharp, condescending voice joined his from the corridor.
“This is completely ridiculous, Claire! Two hundred guests are waiting for the toasts! Stop being a dramatic child and open this door!”
Then Derek said something directly into the wooden door—a sentence so cruel and revealing that it eliminated the very last sliver of doubt in my soul.
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“If she thinks she can ruin my wedding day,” Derek muttered loudly to his mother, “just remind her whose house she’s coming home to tonight. I’ll teach her how to behave the moment we get through that front door.”
Patricia’s soft, amused chuckle answered him.
