Chapter 1 - THE SKILLET ON THE FLOOR
Vanessa Carter swung the cast-iron skillet before Rachel understood what she was doing.
The skillet struck the side of the high chair with a violent metallic crack.
Food sprayed across the kitchen.
Two-year-old Emma jerked sideways, lost her balance, and tumbled onto the hardwood floor.
“GET OUT OF MY DAUGHTER’S CHAIR RIGHT NOW!”
Rachel was halfway down the staircase when she heard Vanessa scream.
Then she saw her daughter.
Emma lay curled beside the fallen skillet.
Too still.
Rachel ran.
“Emma!”
She dropped to her knees and gathered her carefully against her chest.
“Open your eyes, baby. Come on.”
Emma whimpered.
The sound nearly broke Rachel.
Behind her, Vanessa stood in a red apron, breathing hard but making no attempt to help.
Margaret Carter—Rachel’s mother-in-law—remained beside the kitchen island.
Her face was strangely blank.
Eric came running from the den.
“What happened?”
Vanessa pointed at Emma.
“She was sitting in Lily’s chair.”
Rachel stared up at her sister-in-law.
Lily was Vanessa’s four-year-old daughter, upstairs with Margaret’s husband.
“It’s a kitchen chair.”
“It’s Lily’s chair.”
Vanessa’s voice had no regret in it.
Then she added:
“Next time, she’ll remember.”
Rachel’s fear turned white-hot.
She lowered Emma carefully onto her side, keeping her stable while Eric called for emergency help.
Then Rachel stood.
Vanessa barely had time to react before Rachel slapped her hard across the cheek.
Vanessa stumbled against the counter.
Margaret gasped.
“Rachel!”
Rachel spun toward her.
“My daughter is on the floor and that’s what you’re worried about?”
Nobody answered.
Rachel knelt beside Emma again.
Her phone vibrated on the counter.
She grabbed it to call Megan—her sister, who lived ten minutes away—but a new message was already open on the screen.
Unknown number.
Rachel read six words.
Then read them again.
Her eyes slowly lifted toward Margaret.
Margaret’s face lost every trace of color.
Rachel tightened her grip on the phone.
“Did you stage this?”
Margaret lunged toward her.
“Give me that.”
Eric caught his mother’s wrist before she reached the phone.
Rachel stared at him.
Then at Margaret.
The message was still glowing in her hand.
May you like
Vanessa had attacked Emma.
But somebody else had apparently known it was going to happen.
