"Just walk away," Victoria muttered, her patience wearing thin.
She reached out a manicured hand to shove the child toward the hallway, intending nothing more than to clear her path and signal her absolute dominion over the space. It wasn't meant to be violent. In Victoria’s mind, it was merely physical redirection—the way an adult might sweep a stray leaf off a pristine sidewalk.
But three-year-olds are small.
And piano benches have no backs.
And marble floors do not forgive.
The palm of Victoria’s hand caught Lily’s shoulder. The child, off-balance and unprepared, lost her footing on the slick stone surface.
Thud.
It wasn't a loud sound, but it was a terrible one. The dull impact of a toddler's small body hitting hard stone echoed sharply against the high ceilings of the parlor.