Chapter 3 - The Gasp of Relief
Marcus rushed forward in sheer horror, dropping his briefcase straight onto the hardwood entrance floor. He stretched his arms out toward Clara while staring at his mother in complete disbelief.
"Get away from her right now!" Marcus whispered furiously, his voice trembling with a deadly edge that Phyllis had never heard from her son before.
Phyllis froze mid-air, still holding the crutches above her head. The cruel sneer instantly drained from her face, replaced by a sudden wave of flustered panic. She lowered the crutches slightly, trying to pull herself together.
Clara looked up at her husband, gasping for air through her quiet sobs. The pure terror in her eyes slowly gave way to a wave of overwhelming relief.
"Marcus... you came back," Clara whispered through her tears, her voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator.
"I forgot my flight documents on the study desk..." Marcus muttered, his eyes never leaving his mother’s pale, shaking hands. "I came back to grab them... and I find this?"
Phyllis quickly stepped back, trying to hide the crutches behind her back while forcing a nervous, artificial smile.
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"Marcus, honey, it’s not what it looks like!" Phyllis stammered, her voice high-pitched and defensive. "She slipped! I was just picking up her crutches so she wouldn't trip over them!"
👉 What did Clara say next that completely shattered Phyllis’s lies?
