Chapter 180
Chapter 180:
Skin tore. Blood welled up instantly, bright red against her white socks.
Effie screamed. It wasn’t a cry for attention. It was the raw, unguarded cry of genuine pain.
Grayson, no more than ten feet away with Kaiden in his arms, turned around.
He saw Belle brushing invisible dust from her skirt, her expression one of mild irritation. He saw Effie face-down in the grass.
He didn’t move.
The sound of Effie’s scream cut through the polite chatter of the picnic like a siren.
Isolde didn’t think. She didn’t feel the pain in her burned hand or her broken arm. She was moving before the sound had even finished echoing across the lawn.
She reached Effie and scooped her up with her good arm, cradling her against her chest. The blood was flowing freely, soaking into Isolde’s black shirt.
“Mommy, it hurts!” Effie sobbed, her face buried in Isolde’s neck.
Grayson finally walked over, Kaiden still on his hip. He looked annoyed rather than concerned.
𝖡𝘦 𝗉𝘢r𝘵 of 𝗈𝘶r с𝘰𝗺𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗂𝘵𝘺 о𝘯 g𝖺𝗅𝗻о𝘷𝗲𝗅𝘴.𝖼о𝗺
“What is all the noise?” he asked. “It’s just a scrape, Effie. Stop crying.”
“She’s so clumsy,” Belle sniffed, checking her own shins. “She nearly knocked me over. And this is silk.”
Isolde looked up. Her eyes were voids. “She is bleeding, Grayson. Look at her.”
Grayson glanced at the blood and frowned. “It’s — okay, it’s a cut. I’ll call the medic.” He reached out a tentative hand toward Effie’s head.
“Crybaby! Crybaby!” Kaiden pointed at Effie and laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. “Effie is a baby!”
Effie wailed louder, shrinking away from Grayson’s outstretched hand.
Isolde slapped it aside. “Don’t touch her.”
“Kaiden, stop it,” Grayson said weakly. Then he turned on Isolde. “Don’t hit me. And don’t make a scene. You’re embarrassing the family.”
“The family?” Isolde stood, holding Effie tight against her. “You don’t have a family, Grayson. You have a PR stunt.” She turned to Kaiden. “And you — shut your mouth.”
Kaiden’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t used to being spoken to that way. He burst into tears — loud, demanding, performative tears. “Daddy! The bad woman yelled at me!”
Grayson immediately pulled Kaiden closer. “It’s okay, son. She’s just… upset.” He glared at Isolde. “Go fix her up. And keep her away from the main tent.”
Isolde stared at him. The man who had once held her hand during the ultrasound. The man who had promised to protect them.
“You are sick,” she whispered.
She turned and walked toward the estate’s guest house, where Arland had prepared a private area.
Arland met her halfway across the lawn and took Effie gently from her arms. “I’ve got her. The medic is inside.”
They moved into the cool, quiet room. The medic cleaned Effie’s knee — it needed a butterfly stitch. When it was done, Effie sniffled and looked up at Isolde.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Does Daddy hate me?”
The room went silent. Arland looked away, his jaw tight.
.
.
.