Chapter 1 - The Sound of Glass
The world did not end with a bang, but with the sickening crunch of bone against marble. The pain was not sharp; it was a wave, a drowning tide of red-hot agony that consumed my vision.
“Claire!”
That voice wasn’t mine. It belonged to Julian, Brooke’s fiancé. He was moving toward me, his tuxedo jacket flapping as he ran, but I couldn't focus on him. My eyes were locked on Brooke. She stood at the top of the stairs, her hands still held out, her face a masterpiece of practiced shock. The guests were murmuring, a low, buzzing hive of confusion and cruelty.
“I… I didn’t mean to!” Brooke shrieked, her voice pitching perfectly into the register of a devastated sister. “She lunged for me, she’s so unstable, she’s been having these episodes—”
Episodes.
The word hung in the air, heavier than the pain in my hip. She was already rewriting history. She was framing the push as a breakdown.
Julian reached me, his face pale, his hands hovering over me, afraid to touch. “Call 911!” he roared at the crowd. He looked back at Brooke, and for a split second, I saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes—a tiny crack in the golden armor of his fiancée. “Brooke, what happened?”
“She just… she lost her balance!” Brooke sobbed, sinking to her knees, clutching her own throat. “I tried to catch her!”
As the paramedics swarmed the rooftop, their boots heavy and urgent against the floor, I gripped Julian’s wrist. His skin was cold.
“It wasn’t an accident,” I whispered, the words tasting like copper and bile.
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“Save your breath, Claire,” he murmured, his eyes searching mine. “Just hold on.”
As they strapped me to the gurney, I saw Brooke watching from the shadows of the velvet curtains. She wasn't crying anymore. She was watching to see if I would survive to tell the truth. And in that moment, I realized the engagement party wasn't the beginning of the end. It was the moment the war had truly started.
