Chapter 2 The Birthday Massacre

"Diro, sweetheart! Welcome!"

Irene Carter's voice rang across the marble foyer like champagne glasses clinking, all crystalline perfection and underlying sharpness. She glided toward them in a cloud of expensive perfume and silk, her arms outstretched for her son, her smile radiant enough to blind.

"You look absolutely magnificent," she purred, pulling Diro into an embrace that lasted just long enough to make Beverly feel invisible. "My handsome boy."

Then those cold gray eyes-the same color as winter storms-slid to Beverly, and the temperature in the room plummeted.

"And what's this?" Irene's voice curdled like spoiled milk. "You brought the mute with you."

Beverly's entire body began to tremble. Not a gentle shake, but violent tremors that started in her core and radiated outward like shock waves. Her face had gone deathly pale, her eyes wide with terror, and the fear radiating from her was so intense it seemed to fill the room.

From somewhere nearby came the sound of a baby crying sharp, frightened wails that pierced the air. Riko's infant, sensing the terror and distress emanating from Beverly, had started screaming in response to her fear.

"Look at you," Irene continued, her voice dripping with disgust as she circled Beverly like a predator sizing up wounded prey. "Shaking like a leaf. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Do you know what today is, you useless creature? It's MY birthday. MY special day. And here you are, making everything about your ridiculous dramatics."

The baby's cries grew louder, more distressed, feeding off Beverly's visible terror.

"Sit down," Irene snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. "You're making the baby cry with all that trembling. Look what you've done-you're scaring an innocent child with your pathetic display. Sit down before you collapse and embarrass us all."

"I don't know why you insist on acting like some kind of ghost," Irene continued, her words slicing through Beverly like razors. "Floating around here with those vacant eyes and that perpetual victim expression. This is my big day, and I will NOT have you ruining it with your pathetic display. Don't embarrass me today. Don't give me a reason to lose my temper. Just sit there, keep your mouth shut, oh wait, you can't open it anyway and try to blend into the furniture where you belong."

Beverly stumbled to the nearest chair, her legs barely supporting her weight. The silk cushion felt like ice against her skin. The baby's cries began to quiet as she moved away, but the damage was done; she had been branded as a disruptive presence from the moment she walked in. Around them, the party continued crystal glasses tinkling, designer heels clicking against marble, and cultured laughter floating through the air. But Beverly felt like she was drowning in a sea of noise and cruelty.

"Beverly!"

The voice made her jump. Riko Carter, Diro's younger sister, appeared beside her chair with the predatory smile that ran in the family. She was beautiful in the same sharp-edged way as her mother, all angles and attitude.

"How are you doing, sister-in-law?" Riko's voice was honey over broken glass. "You look... Well, you look exactly the same as always. Silent and sad."

Beverly managed a weak nod, her hands clasped tightly in her lap to stop their trembling.

"Speaking of looking the same," Riko continued, settling into the chair beside her with theatrical concern, "when are you going to give my brother a child? I mean, you've been married for three years now. Three years, Beverly. Most women would have produced an heir by now. What's the holdup?"

The words hit Beverly like physical blows. Her mind catapulted backward, dragging her into a memory so painful it felt like drowning.

Two months ago. The bathroom floor, cold against her knees. The pregnancy test in her trembling hands, two pink lines that had made her heart soar with desperate hope.

She'd been so careful, so gentle as she'd approached Irene with the news. She'd thought God, she'd been so stupid she'd thought a grandchild might soften the woman's heart.

"Please," Beverly had signed, her hands moving frantically as Irene's face twisted with rage. "Please, I want to have Diro's baby."

The slap had come out of nowhere, splitting her lip and sending her reeling.

"One mute is enough in this family," Irene had hissed, her voice venomous. "We don't need another defective child ruining our bloodline. You will terminate this pregnancy, and you will never NEVER try this again."

Beverly had tried to run, had tried to protect the tiny life growing inside her. But Irene had grabbed her wrist with fingers like steel clamps.

"You will take these pills every day," Irene had snarled, shoving a bottle of birth control into Beverly's hands. "And if you ever get pregnant again, I will make sure you disappear. Do you understand me, you worthless creature?"

The abortion had been a nightmare of sterile rooms and cold metal instruments. Beverly had sobbed silently as they took away her baby Diro's baby, the only thing that might have been truly hers in this house of horrors.

"Beverly?" Riko's voice snapped her back to the present. "I asked you a question. When are you going to give us an heir?"

Beverly's hands moved in desperate sign language, trying to explain that she wanted children, that she'd tried.

"Enough!"

Irene's voice cut through the room like a blade. She appeared beside them, her face twisted with fury, her gray eyes blazing.

"Enough of this interrogation, Riko. I will not have this discussion at my party."

"But Mother," Riko protested, "I was just asking about"

"I said enough!" Irene's voice rose to a dangerous pitch. Several nearby guests turned to stare. "I don't want to entertain any discussion about mute children. I don't want another cursed child in this family. This one" she gestured at Beverly with disgust "is already more than enough of a burden. The last thing we need is to breed more defective offspring."

Beverly's world tilted sideways. The words hit her like acid, burning through her chest and settling in her stomach like poison. Around them, the party guests had gone silent, their conversations dying as they turned to watch the spectacle.

"I will not have the Carter bloodline polluted any further," Irene continued, her voice carrying across the room like a death sentence. "One mute is a tragedy. Two would be a catastrophe. So no, Riko, there will be no children. Not from her. Not ever."

Beverly's hands flew to her mouth, trying to hold back the sob that threatened to escape. The memory of her lost baby, the child Irene had forced her to abort, cut through her like a blade.

The silence in the room was deafening. Dozens of eyes stared at Beverly, some with pity, others with curiosity, all of them witnessing her complete and utter humiliation.

Irene smiled, satisfied with the devastation she'd wrought.

"Now," she said, smoothing her silk dress, "let's get back to celebrating, shall we? After all, it is my birthday."

Beverly sat frozen in her chair, her entire body numb with shock and pain. The memory of her lost child felt like an open wound, and Irene's words had just poured salt directly into it.

The party swirled around her, but Beverly was drowning in a sea of her own devastation, the echo of her aborted baby's heartbeat haunting her like a ghost that would never rest.