Chapter 3 - The Gathering of Vultures
The Hayes family estate in Gold Coast sat behind wrought-iron gates that had stood for nearly a century.
It was an imposing fortress of gray limestone, built with the kind of money that preferred to remain hidden behind heavy velvet drapes.
When Emily opened the heavy mahogany front door, the house was not silent.
Voices drifted from the formal parlor down the marble hall.
“She shouldn't have let the child wander off,” a woman’s crisp voice was saying.
It was Eleanor Hayes.
Alexander’s mother.
A woman who had spent the last seven years reminding Emily that kindergarten teachers did not belong in families that owned half the commercial shipping on the Great Lakes.
“The preschool staff is entirely at fault,” another voice piped up.
Madison.
Alexander’s younger sister.
The one who had taken the photograph that had ended Emily’s life.
“Alexander shouldn't have to carry the blame for a negligent daycare worker,” Madison insisted.
“He is a busy man.”
“People expect things from him.”
Emily stepped through the archway into the parlor.
The room went instantly, completely silent.
Eleanor sat on the cream-colored sofa with a porcelain teacup resting on her knee.
Madison stood near the fireplace, an open bottle of wine sitting on the mantelpiece behind her.
And sitting beside Eleanor, her hands folded primly in her lap, was Olivia Carter.
Olivia was wearing a beige cashmere sweater.
Her eyes were slightly pink, as if she had taken the time to practice looking concerned in the mirror before getting into the town car.
“Emily,” Eleanor said, setting her teacup down on the saucer with a sharp click.
“You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”
“Where is Alexander?”
Emily did not answer.
She looked at Madison.
Madison shifted uncomfortably, pulling her designer sweater tighter around her shoulders.
“Emily, listen,” Madison began, her tone defensive before an accusation had even been leveled.
“I deleted the photo immediately.”
“I didn't know anything had happened when I posted it.”
“You shouldn't hold a social media post against me during a family crisis.”
“A family crisis?” Emily repeated.
Her voice was dangerously quiet.
“Is that what you call it?”
Olivia stood up slowly, taking a hesitant step forward with her palms open in a theatrical show of empathy.
“Emily, I am so completely devastated,” Olivia whispered.
“If I had known Alexander had to pick Grace up, I never would have let him stay to help with the catering staff.”
“He was just being kind.”
“My father’s health has been so poor, and Alexander knows how much this milestone meant to our family.”
Emily looked at Olivia’s perfect face.
She looked at the diamond studs in Olivia’s ears.
She looked at the polished leather shoes that had stood beside her husband while Grace was dying on asphalt.
“You knew,” Emily said.
Olivia blinked, taken aback.
“What?”
“Alexander’s calendar is synced with his office,” Emily said, each word falling like lead.
“He told you at two o’clock that he had to leave for Grace’s school.”
“His assistant told me before I left the hospital.”
Olivia’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
“You asked him to stay because you couldn't stand the idea of him leaving your party for my daughter.”
“That is absurd!” Eleanor snapped, rising from the sofa with her posture rigid with aristocratic indignation.
“Olivia has been a friend of this family since she was a child.”
“Do not project your grief into wild accusations, Emily.”
“Accusations?” Emily turned her gaze toward the older woman.
“Your granddaughter is lying on a stainless steel tray in the basement of Cook County Hospital.”
Eleanor flinched.
For the first time, the older woman’s polished facade cracked around the mouth.
“And you are sitting here having tea with the woman who helped kill her.”
“Watch your tongue!” Madison shouted, stepping forward to shield Olivia.
“You don't talk to our mother like that!”
“You are hysterical, Emily!”
“Alexander is the one suffering the most right now!”
“He has the entire city watching him, and now he has to bury his only heir!”
Emily walked slowly toward Madison.
There was no frenzy in her movement.
No rage in her posture.
Only an icy, terrifying certainty that made Madison’s voice die in her throat.
Madison took a step backward until her spine hit the marble mantelpiece.
Emily stopped three inches from her face.
“Do you know what Grace’s last words were this morning, Madison?”
Madison swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the hallway looking for help.
“She asked if her daddy was coming for her.”
“She smiled because she thought her father was a king who never broke his word.”
“And you took a picture of him holding your friend’s balloons while that king let his daughter die in the street.”
Madison began to tremble.
“I didn't mean to—”
“Delete the app, Madison,” Emily whispered.
“Delete every account you have.”
“Because if I ever see your face on a screen celebrating your shallow life again, I will make sure the entire city knows what kind of monster you really are.”
The front door slammed open down the hall.
Heavy, uneven footsteps echoed on the marble.
Alexander appeared in the parlor doorway.
His tie was gone.
His white shirt was torn at the shoulder where he had caught it on the ambulance door.
He looked around the room, taking in his mother, his sister, Olivia, and Emily standing among them like an avenging ghost.
“Alexander,” Olivia breathed, taking a step toward him.
“Alexander, please tell Emily—”
Alexander did not look at Olivia.
He did not look at his mother.
He walked past them as if they were made of mist and fell to his knees in front of Emily once more.
“Emily,” he begged, wrapping his arms around her knees in front of his family.
“Please come upstairs.”
“Please don’t leave me down here with them.”
“Please.”
Eleanor gasped in horror at the sight of her powerful son kneeling on the floor like a dog.
“Alexander, stand up!” his mother commanded.
“Get off your knees!”
Emily looked down at the top of his head.
She felt no pity.
May you like
She felt no satisfaction.
She simply reached down, untangled his fingers from her coat, and walked toward the stairs to pack her things.
