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The silence that followed the crash of the porcelain was absolute. It was the kind of deafening quiet that only exists in rooms where the unimaginable has just occurred. I stood there, the heavy mahogany dining table separating me from the people I had called family for the past three years. The warm, metallic scent of blood invaded my senses before I even felt the sting. A thick drop rolled down my forehead, stinging my left eye, before splashing onto the pristine white silk of my blouse.
Marcus, the man who had sworn to protect me, stood frozen, his chest heaving, his hand still suspended in the air from where he had swung the dinner plate.…