Chapter 2
The heavy wrought-iron gate at the side of the house swung open with a violent, metallic crash that cut through the cheerful party music.
Sarah, Grace’s thirty-six-year-old mother, rushed onto the brightly lit patio. She was still wearing her hospital scrubs, her work shoes scuffing against the stone pavers, a stethoscope shoved hastily into her pocket. Her fair skin was pale with exhaustion from a twelve-hour shift, but the moment her eyes locked onto the scene before her, that exhaustion evaporated into pure, explosive adrenaline.
She saw the jagged, uneven chunks missing from her daughter's beautiful hair. She saw the clumps of blonde locks littering the party dress. She saw her mother-in-law pinning her sobbing child to the chair.
Sarah didn't shout a warning. She didn't hesitate. She crossed the bright, sunlit patio in a dead sprint.
Sabrina had just opened the scissors to make another brutal cut when Sarah reached them. With a fierce, unhesitating motion, Sarah drew her hand back and slapped Sabrina squarely across the face.
The sharp, thunderous crack of the impact silenced the entire party. Sabrina’s head snapped violently to the side. The scissors flew from her grip, clattering loudly across the stone pavers, and the thirty-nine-year-old woman collapsed heavily onto the manicured grass, her floral blouse tearing against the hard ground.
"Take your hands off my daughter!" Sarah roared. Her face was blazing with an unholy maternal rage, her eyes flashing with a terrifying, protective fire.
Grandmother, stunned by the sudden and explosive violence, instinctively released her iron grip on Grace and stumbled backward, her elegant flats slipping on the grass.
Sarah immediately dropped to her knees. She pulled the sobbing, terrified Grace into her arms, pressing the girl's ruined hair against her medical scrubs. She shielded her daughter’s body with her own, her chest heaving as she glared up at the stunned relatives.
Sabrina groaned on the grass, clutching her rapidly swelling, bright red cheek. "You... you crazy bitch! I'll have you arrested for assault! Look what you did to me!"
"Call them," Sarah hissed, her American accent sharp and deadly. "Call the police right now, Sabrina. Let's show them what you were doing to an eleven-year-old child."
Sarah stood up, keeping Grace securely tucked behind her legs. With shaking hands, she reached down and gathered the severed locks of blonde hair from Grace’s dress, clutching the evidence tightly in her fist. She stared down the laughing relatives, watching as their arrogant confidence completely collapsed under the blazing sunlight.
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"Mommy, they wouldn't stop," Grace whimpered, burying her face in Sarah's scrubs.
"I know, baby. I've got you," Sarah whispered fiercely. "Nobody is ever going to touch you again."
