Chapter 1
Rain hammered marble steps outside mansion. Water pooled between stone seams, reflected chandelier glow spilling from arched glass doors behind me. My bare feet slipped on slick wet marble. Cold bit soles. Black rolling suitcase dragged behind me, wheels catching, handle slick in my grip. Green beaded gown clung soaked to my legs, sheer fabric heavy with water, belly tight against beaded bodice. My left hand cradled bump while right hand pulled suitcase. Contradiction cut hard — warm golden party light inside, heavy blue rain outside, laughter and clinking glass behind me while I tried to leave.
Mark moved fast behind me, suit dark, white shirt soaked transparent, hair plastered. He reached while I still held suitcase handle. Evelyn stood framed in doorway, ivory floor-length gown shimmering, champagne flute steady in manicured hand. Vanessa beside her, red satin gown slit high, flute tilted, calm observant posture unmoved despite downpour. Black sedan waited at base of steps, left foreground, rain beading on roof.
My name is Sofia.
Nine p.m. rain had turned marble into mirror. I had counted steps during gala — twelve from doorway to driveway. I took first step down, then second. Suitcase thumped step edge. Water splashed up ankles. Wind pushed wet hair across face. I breathed shallow, chest tight under wet beads. Behind me heels clicked then stopped. Mark closed distance by two steps. His shoes splashed. I felt his shadow over my shoulder before his hand touched me.
Close, rain streaming over his face and jacket, he grasped my forearm. Fingers tight around wet skin. Mouth open, breath visible in cold rain air. Eyes locked on mine, brows drawn, urgent.
"Sofia, what the hell are you doing?" His voice cut through rain, low frustrated.
I didn't answer at first. Rain drummed on suitcase, on gown. I stared at his hand on my arm. His grip left pale indent on wet skin. My other hand stayed on belly, protective. I tried to pull forward. Suitcase wheels stuck on step ridge. Gown weighed heavy. Breath caught.
Evelyn didn't move from doorway. Vanessa leaned slightly against doorframe. Both held champagne flutes, untouched. Warm interior light outlined them while cool rain fell between us.
"Let her go, she'll be back by morning." Evelyn called from doorway, calm, assured. Vanessa smiled faint beside her, watching.
I looked back at Evelyn, then at Mark. Doubt rose sharp. Mark's jaw tightened after Evelyn spoke. Evelyn's certainty felt like prediction, like trap. I realized leaving required more than steps — it required breaking their watch.
I whispered, "You don't see."
Mark shook his head, water flying. "You can't walk barefoot in this rain."
May you like
Evelyn raised flute slightly. "Sofia, don't be dramatic."
I tried to turn toward sedan. Mark's grip held. Rain poured between us, soaking green beads, soaking his white shirt, cold seeping to skin. My suitcase handle still in my fist, planted on step beside me. His fingers didn't loosen. Eye to eye, brows furrowed, eyes red, mouth slightly open, breathing hard. Doorway watchers stayed put, champagne steady, confrontation unresolved, sedan waiting below steps behind curtain of rain.
