Chapter 7 - The Slap
Back inside the grand dining room, the Sterling family sat at the long mahogany table. The poached eggs had gone cold, but no one cared. Trent was in the middle of a tirade, pacing behind Clara’s chair where she sat forced to endure their scrutiny.
"You've embarrassed this family for the last time," Trent said, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "My mother shouldn't have to look at you moping around this house like an abused dog. After the baby is born, we're drafting new custody arrangements. You're going to sign over parental rights, Clara. We'll give you a small stipend, and you're going to pack your bags and leave."
Clara looked up, her tear-stained eyes suddenly widening with pure horror. "What did you say?"
Helen smiled into her teacup. "Oh, did you honestly believe we were going to let a Vance raise an heir to the Sterling real estate trust? You're an incubator, my dear. A fragile, working-class incubator. We'll hire a real nanny from Switzerland to raise the child properly."
"No," Clara whispered, standing up from the table. "No! You can take my dignity, you can break my things, but you will not take my child!"
"Sit down!" Trent roared, stepping forward and swinging his open palm.
The crack of the slap echoed through the room like a gunshot. Clara was thrown sideways, her hip hitting the corner of the heavy oak buffet before she collapsed onto the floor, clutching her swollen belly with both arms, curling herself into a ball of maternal defense.
"Trent, watch the carpet!" Helen complained shrilly. "Her tears are going to stain the silk rug!"
Richard folded his newspaper and stood up. "Trent, handle this quietly. The neighbors have ears, even on two-acre lots."
Trent towered over Clara, his face contorted in vicious rage. He reached down, grabbing her by her sweater collar to hoist her up for another blow. "You think you can scream at my parents in their own home? I will put you in the hospital before I let you disrespect—"
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A deafening, thunderous boom reverberated from the front of the estate.
The crystal chandeliers hanging from the twenty-foot ceiling shook violently, chiming like frantic bells. The entire mansion seemed to shudder down to its concrete foundation.
