Chapter 5 - The Golden Cage
The charity fundraiser was held in the grand ballroom of the city's most expensive luxury hotel.
White silk tablecloths draped over dozens of tables, illuminated by warm gold string lights.
Framed, dramatic photographs of burned homes from our neighborhood lined the entrance hall.
It was a disgusting monument to Brett's manufactured heroism.
I parked my rusted used car three blocks away and walked to the hotel.
June was sleeping peacefully in her stroller, tightly wrapped in a pristine white blanket.
I wore a simple black dress I had bought from a thrift store, but I walked with the posture of a queen.
The lobby was bustling with wealthy donors, local politicians, and aggressive reporters.
I blended in with the crowd moving toward the grand double doors of the ballroom.
My heart hammered against my ribs, but my hands pushing the stroller were remarkably steady.
I knew exactly what I was about to do to the man who left me to burn.
Just as I reached for the brass handle of the ballroom door, a cold hand clamped onto my shoulder.
I turned around slowly, my blood turning to ice.
Eleanor Keene stood there, dripping in diamonds that were probably bought with charity funds.
Her eyes widened in absolute horror as she recognized my face.
She looked down at the stroller, realizing instantly that Brett's heir had survived.
She hissed under her breath that I was supposed to be dead.
I smiled at my former mother-in-law with venom in my eyes.
I told her that she should have checked the ashes herself.
Before she could scream for security, I violently shoved the ballroom doors wide open.
Every head in the room turned to look at the entrance.
The spotlight was hitting the stage, where Brett was holding a microphone, basking in the applause.
But the applause began to die rapidly, like a machine losing power.
Someone in the front row gasped loudly, dropping their champagne glass onto the marble floor.
Brett stopped speaking and squinted through the bright stage lights toward the back of the room.
May you like
His smug, practiced smile completely froze on his face.
He had finally seen the ghost he created.
