Chapter 11
Don't Give Her a Battlefield
The wail of ambulance sirens ripped through the evening, bloody and urgent as uniformed paramedics flooded the hall. Relief washed over the room in a sharp exhale. No one said a word while they moved, brisk and precise, checking Grandmother Halton's vitals.
"Good call on stabilizing her first. Her blood pressure's holding steady now," one paramedic remarked as they carefully transferred her to the gurney.
Mrs. Halton followed the gurney out, face held tight in an expression of panic and something else, maybe resentment, simmering like hidden embers. The red lights cut across the marble floor as the ambulance pulled away, leaving the mansion gaping in silence.
Inside the grand hall, the remaining guests clustered in nervous groups, their delicacies abandoned in favor of hushed conversations.
In one corner, a whisper took shape.
"Did you see her? The girl, she just took control."
