Chapter 1
“This time, you stand where she stood.”
Evelyn looked at the remote on the court, then at the silent ball machine.
For one second, fear replaced arrogance.
I did not turn the machine back on.
That would have made this about revenge. I needed truth more than spectacle.
I bent down, picked up the remote, and slipped it into my pocket.
Evelyn swallowed.
“You were bluffing.”
“No.”
I looked toward Hazel.
“I wanted you to understand what she thought was about to happen.”
My daughter stood between Cora and two bodyguards, still clinging to Cora’s sleeve. Every few seconds her eyes moved toward the machine as if she expected it to wake up again.
That told me enough.
I turned to Cora.
“Keep the video.”
Miles pushed himself up beside the collapsed racket rack.
“She recorded us without permission.”
I almost laughed.
“You aimed a machine at my daughter and your concern is permission?”
He said nothing.
Cora’s hands were shaking badly now.
“There’s more.”
That changed the court.
Evelyn looked at her.
Not confused.
Afraid.
I walked closer.
“What more?”
Cora unlocked her phone.
“There are three other videos.”
Hazel immediately started crying again.
I turned toward her.
“Three?”
She nodded against Cora’s side.
“Evelyn calls it practice.”
My jaw tightened.
“What kind of practice?”
Hazel whispered:
“Not crying.”
No one spoke.
I looked at Evelyn.
The cruelty I had seen today had not been an impulsive punishment.
It had a name.
A routine.
May you like
A goal.
And my three-year-old daughter had already learned the rules.
