She ran tirelessly between the kitchen and the table, lifting heavy plates in her arms, her cheeks flushed with exhaustion. Nearly twenty people sat comfortably around the table, and she was the only one serving everyone. Her husband, Daniel, lounged at the head of the table next to his mother and relatives, laughing as if the whole scene were perfectly normal.
“Emily, do you need help?” I asked, walking over to her.
She glanced at me briefly, her tired eyes forcing a faint smile. “I’m fine. I’m just… almost done.”
But she wasn’t well. That was obvious to anyone who looked at her.
Before I could say another word, Daniel’s mother, Margaret, raised her glass of wine and shouted from across the room, “Emily! This wine is warm. Are you paying attention tonight?”
“Sorry, I’ll bring another bottle,” Emily replied softly as she hurried over.
Margaret rose suddenly from her chair, her face hard and cold. “No, you’ve already done enough.” Then, without warning, she tipped her glass over and poured the red wine directly onto Emily’s head.
The room erupted in laughter.
My blood ran cold. For a moment, stunned, I couldn’t move. Emily stood there, wine dripping into her hair and down her dress, her hands shaking beside her.
“What’s wrong with you?!” I shouted, approaching them. “You can’t treat someone like this!”
Margaret just shrugged, completely indifferent. “He needs to understand his place.”
Daniel remained silent.
I turned to him in disbelief. “Are you really just sitting there?”
Before he could respond, Emily suddenly spoke, her voice shaking but louder than I’d ever heard it before.
“Don’t do it,” she said.
Every sound in the room disappeared.
Then he looked up at Margaret and Daniel, and I saw something in them I couldn’t quite place: maybe fear… or maybe something stronger.
“I already made the call,” she whispered.
And then, suddenly, everything changed.
…
Part 2
