Chapter 3 - The Cold Heart of Privilege
Sarah dropped to her knees, pulling her sobbing daughter into a frantic embrace. Lily was shaking violently, her cries echoing over the stunned whispers of the ballroom.
"Lily, sweetie, look at me. Are you okay?" Sarah pleaded, running her hands over her daughter's arms and shoulders.
That was when she saw it. A sharp splinter of oak had grazed the side of Lily's head. The pristine white ribbon in the little girl's hair was quickly blossoming with a bright, terrifying stain of crimson blood.
Sarah’s breath caught in her throat. The sight of her daughter’s blood overrode any sense of social decorum or fear. She clutched the stained ribbon, her eyes wild with panic as she looked up at the sea of frozen onlookers.
"Call an ambulance!" Sarah screamed, her voice cracking with raw desperation. "Someone help us!"
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From the crowd, Julian's mother, Eleanor, stepped forward. Dressed in a sharply tailored navy blue gown, her expression was a mask of icy indifference. She looked down at the bleeding child and the sobbing mother with utter disdain.
"Oh, please," Eleanor scoffed, her tone dripping with elitist annoyance. "It's just a scratch. Stop making a scene."
