Chapter 2 - The Sound of Falling Marble

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The sharp ring of Victoria Haynes’s voice didn’t just interrupt the quiet music of the east parlor; it shattered it.

Lily froze. Her small index finger hovered a millimeter above the ivory surface of middle C, vibrating with the sudden silence that rushed into the room. She turned her head slowly, her big, round eyes blinking up at the tall woman standing in the doorway.

"Get your dirty hands off that."

Victoria’s words were clipped, shaped by the kind of expensive elocution that comes from private boarding schools and country club galleries. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. Her tone carried the effortless, casual cruelty of someone who viewed the world as a hierarchy where she sat near the top and everyone else existed to dust the steps.