Chapter 3: The Fall of the Golden Child
Chapter 3: The Fall of the Golden Child
Click. Click.
The sound of the metal cuffs locking around Preston’s wrists was the sweetest music I had ever heard.
"Mom! Dad! Do something!" Preston screamed, his carefully crafted composure entirely shattered. He thrashed against the officers, which only made them push him face-first onto one of the velvet dining tables.
"Get your hands off my son!" my father roared, pulling out his phone. "I know the police commissioner! You’ll both be fired for this!"
"Make all the calls you want, sir," the younger officer fired back. "We have it in 4K resolution."
As they yanked Preston to his feet to read him his Miranda rights, his new bride, Chloe, finally moved. She walked slowly down the blood-stained aisle runner, her face pale. She didn't look at Preston. She looked down at the puddle of blood where Sophie had fallen.
"Chloe! Honey, call the lawyer!" Preston pleaded.
Chloe looked up at him, her eyes filled with absolute revulsion. Without a word, she unclasped the diamond necklace he had given her that morning, dropped it onto the floor, and walked out the double doors. Her bridesmaids scrambled to follow her.
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The wedding was over. The golden child was finally burning to the ground.
I didn't stay to watch them drag him out. The paramedics had Sophie on a stretcher. I climbed into the back of the ambulance, holding her tiny, uninjured hand, leaving my screaming parents and handcuffed brother behind in the wreckage of their own making.
