Chapter 76:


    Isolde let out augh that sounded like a sob. “You want me to apologize… while our daughter has second-degree burns?”


    “Effie can wait twenty minutes,” Grayson said. “Priorities, Isolde.”


    “Priorities,” Isolde repeated.


    She grabbed the keys. She picked up Effie.


    “Mrs. Higgins,” Beatricemanded. “Go with her. Help her.”


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    Isolde ran to the car. She strapped Effie in, her hands shaking. Mrs. Higgins climbed into the back seat with a bag of ice and fresh wet towels.


    Isolde mmed the car into gear. The tires screeched against the gravel as she tore out of the driveway.


    Grayson stood on the porch, watching them go. He lifted the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, Belle. They’re leaving. They’re crazy. Only you understand me.”


    On the road, Isolde pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Call Harper.”


    The line connected. “Isolde?”


    “I want to sue,” Isolde said, her voice stripped of all emotion. “Full custody. Sole custody. Negligence. Endangerment. I want him destroyed, Harper. I want him to bleed.”


    Harper didn’t ask questions. “I’m drafting the motion now. Get medical records. Photos.”


    “I will,” Isolde said.


    She nced in the rearview mirror at Effie’s tear-streaked face.


    “Mommy,” Effie whispered. “I don’t like Daddy. I want a new Daddy.”


    Isolde gripped the wheel.


    “We’re done with him, baby,” she said. “Forever.”


    Isolde didn’t drive to the hospital immediately. The nearest trauma center was past St. Jude’s. She had to pass the school.


    As she neared the school gates, a ck Maybach swerved in front of her, cutting her off.


    Isolde mmed on the brakes. The Volvo skidded to a halt.


    Grayson jumped out of his car and ran back to her window, banging on the ss.


    “You aren’t leaving until you talk to Belle!” he shouted. “She’s right there!”


    He pointed. Belle was standing by the school gate, looking perfect in a pastel dress, surrounded by a handful of other mothers. She looked expectant.


    Isolde stared at the man banging on her window. He was deranged. His need to control her, to humiliate her, had overridden everyst trace of sanity. From the back seat, Effie let out a pained whimper, and a primal, protective rage erased every other thought in Isolde’s mind.


    She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t think.


    Isolde shifted into reverse, then mmed the car into drive and cranked the wheel hard. The Volvo surged forward and mounted the curb. She drove along the sidewalk, scraping past Grayson. The side mirror missed his hip by inches.


    Belle screamed. “She’s trying to kill him!”


    Isolde didn’t stop. She merged back onto the road and floored it.


    Grayson stood in the exhaust fumes, coughing. He caught a glimpse of the Volvo’s interior as it sped away — Mrs. Higgins pressing a wet towel to Effie’s red, blistering arm. He saw the burn.


    His hands were shaking, though not with remorse.


    “Bank of America,” he barked into his phone. “Concierge.”


    “Yes, Mr. Lancaster?”


    “Freeze the secondary cards. All of them. Isolde Carson. Cut her off. Now.”


    “Certainly, sir.”


    Grayson smiled grimly. “Let’s see how she pays for that emergency room visit now.”


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