Sarah sighed, her smile dimming slightly. “Consider it a gift from your parents,” she said softly. Her eyes grew misty and she clasped her hands together. “They’d be overjoyed to see you two finally married.”
At the mention of my parents, the lively atmosphere instantly shifted. A heavy silence blanketed the room, thick and uncomfortable. The sound of Anne’s fork clinking against her plate was the only noise.
I forced myself to remain calm, ignoring the tightening in my chest. My hand moved toward the plate of sweet and sour ribs in the center of the table, my fork poised to take a piece.
Before I could reach it, a sharp sting shot through my wrist as David slapped it away. “Who told you to eat that?” His voice was harsh, cutting through the awkward quiet like a whip. “Let go!”
Sarah flinched, her startled gaze darting between us. “David,” she said hesitantly, her tone a mixture of confusion and concern. “What’s wrong with the dish? Bianca loves this the most....”
David’s jaw tightened, the tendons in his neck standing out as he visibly struggled with something unspoken. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and muttered, “Nothing. It’s just... her last checkup showed something concerning. This isn’t good for her to eat.”
The tension in the room was suffocating, every word weighted with unspoken emotions. Without a word, I stood, picked up my plate and carried it to the kitchen. The clatter of the plate as I set it on the counter echoed in the empty space, louder than it should have been.
As I turned back, a sudden, heavy thud shattered the fragile silence, followed by two more in quick succession. The sounds were dull yet ominous, like sandbags hitting the floor. My pulse quickened, but my movements were deliberate as I walked back into the dining room.
Three bodies lay crumpled on the ground. Anne’s delicate frame was sprawled near her chair, her makeup smudged as if mocking the perfect image she had projected just moments before. Tom and Sarah lay side by side, their faces pale and lifeless.
David, still conscious, struggled against the paralysis overtaking him. His eyes, wide with a mixture of disbelief and seething hatred, locked onto mine. “Bianca,” he gasped, his voice hoarse and trembling. “What did you do? Are you insane?”