Chapter 1 - The Anatomy of a Parasite

Chapter 3

Theme:
Font Size:
24px

“You always were far too dramatic, Margaret,” Gloria said, her voice dripping with the effortless condescension of someone who spent her life coasting on the coattails of others. “A young mother has to learn how to manage her household. A little tough love never hurt anyone. Emily was crying over spilled milk before you walked in, weren't you, darling?”

Emily didn't answer. She stood frozen by the stainless-steel double sink, her hands still damp, the water from the faucet dripping with a rhythmic plop, plop, plop into the stagnant dishwater. Her shoulders were hunched, curved inward as if she were trying to make her physical presence as small as humanly possible, hiding behind the shadow of the upper cabinets. The purple bruise peeking out from beneath the frayed cuff of her oversized beige sweater seemed to burn under the harsh overhead recessed lighting.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a cold, hard pulse of pure, unadulterated rage. But externally, my face remained carved out of granite. I had built the Hartwell Dining Group from a single, smoke-filled diner in downtown Chicago into a national chain of forty-two upscale farm-to-table restaurants. I had negotiated multi-million-dollar commercial leases, stared down ruthless corporate liquidators, and stood firm against predatory bank syndicates during the 2008 financial crash. I did not panic. I planned.

“Tough love?” I repeated, my voice quiet, almost conversational, cutting through the ambient hum of the kitchen appliances like a razor. “Is that what you call forcing a nursing mother, who hasn't slept more than three consecutive hours in weeks, to stand at a sink while you sit at her table barking orders like feudal lords?”

Evan set his carving knife down with a loud, deliberate clatter against the porcelain plate. He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, tossed it aside, and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He was thirty-two years old, possessed an annoyingly symmetrical jawline, and wore an expensive tailored shirt that had been purchased using corporate accounts from my company.

News in the same category

Chapter 1 - The Anatomy of a Parasite

7 Part