Chapter 5 - The Turning Tide
Miriam didn’t scream. She didn’t call for help. She simply glided down the staircase, the moonlight catching the diamond on her finger, turning it into a cold, glinting eye.
"Did you really think you could sneak into my house, Elena?" she asked, her voice a low purr. "I have motion sensors in every room that aren't even connected to the main grid. You are so predictable."
My adrenaline was screaming at me to run, but I stood my ground, my bag heavy with the evidence of their cruelty. "I have it, Miriam. I have her journal. I have proof of what you're doing to her."
Miriam laughed—a thin, dry sound that had no humor in it. "You think a child’s scribblings will hold up in court? You think a judge will take custody away from a pillar of this community because of a 'fanciful' story written by an unstable child and her equally unstable mother? You are a joke."
Suddenly, the front door swung open. Mark entered, his tuxedo jacket slung over his shoulder. He stopped, his expression shifting from annoyance to a dark, dangerous glare. "I told you to stay away, Elena."
I backed toward the kitchen, my hand reaching for a heavy iron skillet—not as a weapon, but as a barrier. "This isn't just about custody anymore, Mark. This is about what's happening to her. I’m going to the police with this."
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"The police," Mark scoffed, closing the gap between us. "My brother is the District Attorney. My father-in-law is on the bench. Do you honestly think you can fight a tide that is already pulling you under?"
He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. I kneed him hard, breaking his hold, and bolted for the back door. I sprinted into the dark garden, the scent of lavender and rot filling my lungs. I didn't stop until I reached the perimeter wall, vaulting over it with a desperation I didn't know I possessed. I had the journals, but as I reached my car, I realized with a sickening thud: my phone was gone. I’d dropped it in the library.
