Chapter 1 - THE CHAIR
The rip was loud enough to stop the music.
Amber jerked herself upright from the ballroom chair. Her white wedding gown stayed behind for half a second, stretched hard against the upholstered seat, then tore sharply along the back seam.
She stumbled forward, caught the dress with both hands, and kicked the chair backward.
It crashed onto the polished floor.
Every conversation in the ballroom died.
“Who the hell did this?!”
Hazel stood twelve feet away beside the family table.
She knew exactly what had happened.
Two hours earlier, while guests were still in the cocktail lounge, Hazel had returned to the ballroom for her reading glasses. She saw Amber crouched beside Hazel’s reserved chair with a squeeze bottle in her hand, spreading clear adhesive across the seat.
Garnet stood beside her, laughing.
He had noticed Hazel first.
“Don’t ruin the joke, Mom.”
Amber had turned, seen Hazel, then simply walked away.
Hazel should have called staff.
She should have removed the chair.
Instead, furious and humiliated, she had switched it with the clean chair assigned to Amber at the sweetheart-table side extension.
It had felt satisfying for exactly two hours.
Now Amber scanned the room, saw Hazel, and stormed straight toward her.
Before Hazel could speak, Amber grabbed her shoulder and slapped her hard across the face.
Hazel’s head snapped sideways.
A tiny split opened at her lip.
“It was you, wasn’t it?!”
Hazel wiped the thin streak of blood from her mouth.
Then looked up.
Amber reached again.
Hazel caught her wrist, ripped it away, and slapped her back once.
Amber staggered against the table.
Glasses clattered.
Garnet rushed forward.
“Mom—”
Hazel pointed at the fallen chair.
“You did this to yourself.”
Amber froze.
Hazel stepped closer.
“Wasn’t it you who put glue on that chair?”
A woman near the service doors spoke.
“She did.”
Everyone turned.
A young venue assistant named Lila stood holding a tablet.
Amber went pale.
Lila swallowed.
“The pre-dinner incident note mentions the glue.”
Garnet stared.
“What incident note?”
Lila looked toward Amber.
“There are twelve other notes involving your mother.”
Hazel slowly turned toward her son.
“Twelve?”
Lila nodded.
“And the glue was already drafted as number thirteen.”
Amber closed her eyes.
May you like
Hazel suddenly understood the chair was not the beginning.
It was the final entry in a story Amber had been building for months.
