ISABELLA’S POV
“She stabbed her!” Jessie finally cried out, tears springing to her eyes. “She stabbed Mom!”
The world tilted.
We didn’t wait. We ran.
Andrew’s tantrums vanished in the storm of chaos as we tore down the corridor, following Jessie’s frantic steps past the dazed servers, past shattered champagne flutes and abandoned gift bags, until we reached the door to the lounge where the aunties had retreated.
She pushed it open with a trembling hand.
And there—on the floor, crumpled like a fallen statue, bleeding into the cream carpet—was Mrs. Salvador.
“Oh my God!” Agnes screamed, both hands flying to her mouth in horror.
Linda turned to the side, slapped a palm over her mouth and promptly retched. “I—I can’t stand blood,” she wheezed out, eyes watering.
So much for the two st
