Charles's Point Of View
I watched the taillights of those Moore family SUVs flicker like dying embers as they retreated down the long, winding drive of my father's estate. The roar of their engines faded into the distance, leaving behind a silence so thick I could almost taste the salt in the air from the nearby coast.
The white-hot rage that had been thrumming in my veins… the kind that usually ended with someone being buried in an unmarked grave, finally started to simmer down into a dull, throbbing annoyance. My jaw ached from clenching it so hard.
Just looking at them had made my skin crawl. Every time Matilda opened her mouth, I pictured a different way to shut it. Permanently.
I kept thinking, what if? What if I hadn't found them tonight? What if those vultures had succeeded in selling my daughter off to some other family like a piece of livestock just to balance their pathetic ledgers?
