Chapters (27)
Amber watched as her daughter rushed out the door, and stood in the hallway for some time. She listened to the workers across the road and the tick of the clock from the living room. Her breaths were calm, but her heart was racing. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out of her nose until it slowed, and waited until the clock struck nine to mark the start of school. With the day she had planned, she couldn’t be disturbed.
Amber headed back to the kitchen and picked through the contents of the knife drawer, surveying her options before choosing a large chef’s knife with a thick handle. She twisted a fresh tea towel until it resembled a rope and placed it between her teeth. She mimicked the action she planned to make and brought the handle to her face exactly where she wanted it to land. Her heart beat faster until the sound of her pulse drummed against her temples. She took a deep breath, clenched her grip on the knife, and thrust it into her cheekbone as hard as she could. She winced with the pain and white spots burst in her vision. If she wanted substantial bruising, she had to do it again. She thrust the butt of the handle into her cheekbone two more times before the knife clattered to the floor and the towel fell from her mouth with her cry, the sound echoing through the house. She held her throbbing face and breathed quickly through gritted teeth. When the pain eased, she opened her eyes and moved her jaw from side to side until it clicked. Flecks of blood were splashed against the tiled floor. The tip of the knife had clipped the top of her foot. Blood trickled between her toes.
Amber picked up the knife and wiped her wound and the floor clean. She licked her fingertip to soothe the cut on the top of her foot before covering it with a plaster.
Once the knife was washed she put it in her pocket, turned back to the room and caught her reflection in the mirror.
Most people would describe her as beautiful. She eyed her stark ivory skin and hazel eyes, and ran her fingers through her hair, which stopped at the bottom of her ribcage. For a woman in her early forties, she had remarkably smooth skin, now tarnished by a bruise waking on her cheekbone.
Richard had thought her beautiful once. She wondered when he had begun to change his mind.
Someone wanted to destroy everything she had built.
But she already had the upper hand.
TWO
