Chapter 1 - The Mask at the Bottom of the Pool
Mireya was three years old when Cullen finally saw how far Tove was willing to go.
The wedding reception was still underway inside the estate.
Warm afternoon light spilled through the high windows onto polished stone floors. Guests moved between champagne tables and the landscaped courtyard outside. Along the terrace, a shallow reflecting pool mirrored the white flowers and hanging lights.
Mireya sat beside it wearing her nebulizer mask.
Her breathing had tightened suddenly after the ceremony.
Margaret, her grandmother, had already opened the medical bag and started the treatment exactly the way Mireya’s pulmonologist had instructed.
Then Tove walked over.
She stared at the child.
“You’re doing this now?”
Margaret looked up.
“She’s wheezing.”
Tove bent down.
Before anyone could stop her, she ripped the nebulizer mask from Mireya’s face.
Then threw it directly into the reflecting pool.
SPLASH.
The mask sank beneath the shallow water.
Mireya gasped.
Her small chest began working harder.
Margaret reached toward her.
Tove shoved the seventy-year-old woman aside.
“STOP ENABLING HER DRAMA.”
Mireya began crying.
Then Cullen entered from the adjoining hallway.
He saw his daughter.
Saw the empty tubing.
Saw Margaret struggling to regain her balance.
He crossed the room instantly.
The medical bag was still open.
Cullen grabbed the clean spare mask, secured it over Mireya’s nose and mouth, and restarted her treatment.
Within moments, her breathing began to settle.
Mireya clutched his sleeve.
“DADDY... I CAN’T BREATHE.”
Cullen’s face went completely cold.
Then Chase stepped between him and Tove.
Tove’s brother looked at Mireya and scoffed.
“SHE’S ALWAYS BEEN GOOD AT FAKING IT.”
He grabbed Cullen by the shirt.
Then swung first.
Cullen moved Mireya behind Margaret.
Only after his daughter was safely out of the line of conflict did Cullen turn.
Chase’s fist came toward him.
Cullen slipped the punch.
Then his right hand connected once across Chase’s face.
WHACK.
Chase flew backward into the ceramic display shelf.
CRASH.
Ceramics shattered across the floor as the shelf collapsed around him.
Cullen did not hit him again.
Tove suddenly grabbed Margaret’s handbag.
She ran toward the edge of the reflecting pool.
Cullen caught her wrist.
He ripped the bag free.
Then his open palm struck once across her face.
SLAP.
Tove reeled backward.
Her heel crossed the stone edge.
SPLASH.
She fell into the shallow pool, landing without striking her head.
She sat up soaked and stunned.
Cullen stepped between her and his family.
Behind him, Mireya breathed safely through the replacement mask while Margaret held her close.
Chase remained conscious amid the collapsed display.
Cullen looked down at Tove.
His voice became frighteningly calm.
“YOU BROKE EVERY RULE. NOW, BRACE YOURSELF.”
Tove froze.
And for the first time that afternoon, her fear had nothing to do with Cullen’s anger.
Her eyes were fixed on Margaret’s handbag.
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Because something inside it could prove that what happened to Mireya beside the pool was not the first time Tove had interfered with her breathing treatment.
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