Chapter 3 - Ashes of the Past
"Claire! Stop!" Mark roared, throwing his full weight against the heavy bedroom door.
On the third impact, the latch gave way with a splintering crunch. The door swung open to reveal a scene of sheer madness.
The master bedroom was ransacked. Drawers were pulled out, clothes were strewn across the hardwood floor, and in the center of the Persian rug sat a large metal wastebasket engulfed in flames. Claire stood over it, her eyes wild, feeding thick manila envelopes and glossy documents into the fire.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Mark lunged forward, grabbing a heavy wool blanket from the foot of the bed. He threw the blanket over the metal bin, smothering the flames with frantic stomps.
Claire stumbled backward toward the open balcony doors, clutching a single black leather-bound ledger against her chest. The cool evening breeze whipped her dark hair across her face, making her look like a stranger.
"You wanted the truth, Mark?" she hissed, her voice jagged with hysterical spite. "You always wanted to know why I married you. Why I stayed in this boring suburban purgatory!"
Mark kicked the smoldering basket away and coughed through the acrid smoke. "You hurt our child! You abused Maya! Nothing you say justifies that!"
"Maya isn't even—" Claire stopped herself abruptly, biting her lip so hard a bead of crimson welled on her skin.
The unfinished sentence struck Mark like a physical blow. The room spun around him. "What did you just say?"
Claire’s eyes narrowed into slits of malicious satisfaction. She saw the devastation in his eyes and savored it. She stepped onto the balcony threshold, holding the black ledger over the stone railing. Three stories below, the paved patio gleamed in the twilight.
May you like
"You think I'm the only monster here, Mark? Ask your father about the trust fund. Ask him what he paid my family to keep me quiet five years ago."
She tossed the ledger over the railing. As Mark sprinted toward the edge to catch it, Claire slipped through the side stairwell door leading down to the garage. A second later, the roar of a high-performance engine shattered the quiet neighborhood.
