Chapter 2 - THE BALLROOM FLOOR
The toast lasted six minutes.
Savannah remembered none of it.
Michael Prescott spoke about destiny.
Margaret spoke about family legacy.
Fallon spoke about finally stepping into the life she deserved.
Savannah stood near the edge of the room and watched Daniel try twice to reach her.
Both times, Margaret intercepted him.
Finally Savannah walked toward him herself.
Fallon saw.
She stepped off the stage.
“Savannah.”
Savannah kept moving.
“Savannah.”
She turned.
“What?”
Fallon smiled at the guests.
Then, without warning, slapped Savannah hard across the face.
The ballroom gasped.
Savannah stumbled into a table.
A glass fell.
Fallon screamed:
“Tonight is about ME, you jealous little failure!”
Savannah stared.
Not angry yet.
Stunned.
“What is wrong with you?”
Fallon grabbed her by the hair.
Savannah cried out.
Guests watched.
No one moved.
“Get this embarrassment out of my sight!”
Savannah grabbed Fallon’s wrist.
Not to hit.
To stop the pulling.
Margaret stepped aside instead of helping.
That hurt more than the slap.
Fallon dragged Savannah toward the doors.
Savannah could have resisted harder.
She did not.
Part of her still believed someone would say enough.
No one did.
Fallon shoved her into the hallway.
Savannah hit one knee on the carpet.
Margaret looked down.
“Don’t bleed on the carpet.”
Then the doors slammed.
Applause erupted inside seconds later when the engagement program continued.
Savannah sat on the floor.
For the first time since deployment, she cried without trying to stop.
Not because Fallon hit her.
Because the room accepted it.
Her phone rang.
Daniel.
She answered through tears.
“Savannah, don’t leave.”
She froze.
“Why?”
“I’m coming out.”
She stood.
“No.”
“Wait.”
Savannah wiped her face and started toward the hotel exit.
Then Daniel shouted behind her.
“Savannah! WAIT!”
She turned.
He hurried toward her carrying the legal folder.
“Your family house was sold this morning.”
Savannah stared.
“What?”
“The Blake house.”
“No.”
Daniel held up a property transfer document.
“Closed at ten forty-seven.”
Savannah’s breathing changed.
“By who?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Fallon.”
Then he pointed to the signature.
Savannah Blake.
Her name.
Her handwriting, almost.
Almost.
Savannah’s face went cold.
“That’s not mine.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because your father required dual approval from you and Fallon for any sale before Margaret’s death.”
Savannah stared.
“My father what?”
Daniel opened the folder.
The family house was not Margaret’s outright.
Andrew had placed it in a residence trust.
Margaret had lifetime occupancy.
Savannah and Fallon held equal remainder interests.
Neither daughter could sell alone.
Savannah had never been told.
“Why didn’t I know?”
Daniel looked toward the ballroom doors.
“That is a longer problem.”
Savannah’s anger deepened.
“Who bought it?”
“Prescott Development Partners.”
Michael’s family.
The groom-to-be.
Savannah looked back toward the ballroom.
The engagement.
The champagne.
The applause.
All of it rearranged.
“How much?”
“Three point eight million.”
“That house is worth more.”
“Probably five.”
Savannah stared.
“Why sell low?”
Daniel answered:
“Because this wasn’t an ordinary sale.”
He showed her the financing schedule.
Fallon had negotiated an immediate cash advance months earlier.
The house was collateral.
Today’s “sale” satisfied that debt.
Savannah whispered:
“How much did she borrow?”
Daniel looked grim.
“Two point one million.”
Savannah stopped breathing.
“For what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Then another voice spoke behind them.
“You’re not supposed to be discussing this.”
Margaret.
She stood ten feet away.
Perfect posture.
Cold face.
Savannah looked at her mother.
“You knew.”
Margaret said nothing.
Savannah smiled.
Eerily calm now.
“Good.”
Margaret frowned.
“Good?”
May you like
Savannah took the document from Daniel.
“Now I know where to start.”
