Chapter 2: The Woman Who Knew How to Cry
By four o'clock, Corisande Viremont had changed into a cream silk blouse, dried her hair, and called the one person she knew would never question her version of the truth.
Her mother.
"Darling, what's happened?"" Vivienne Ashcombe asked when she answered.
Corisande sat in the upstairs dressing room, a towel draped over her shoulders. Her phone rested on the vanity beside a row of expensive perfumes.
"Theron attacked me.""
There was a sharp silence.
"What?""
"He kicked me into the swimming pool.""
"Theron did what?""
Corisande closed her eyes and let her voice tremble.
"He came home and saw me wet, and instead of asking what happened, he shoved me into the water. In front of Eirlys.""
It was a carefully chosen half-truth.
Vivienne knew her daughter well enough to recognize distress, but she also knew how to respond to the words attacked me.
"Are you hurt?""
"My chest hurts. My back hurts. I don't know what he might have broken.""
"Have you called a doctor?""
"No.""
"Then call one immediately.""
Corisande looked at the closed dressing-room door.
"I can't. If I make a scene, he'll turn everyone against me.""
"Darling, what are you talking about?""
"Theron controls everything. The house. The staff.
The money. Even the people who are supposed to be my friends."" She pressed a hand over her mouth, forcing a small sob.
"I think he's finally shown me what he's capable of.""
Vivienne's voice hardened.
"Listen to me. You're coming home tonight.""
"I can't leave Eirlys.""
"Then bring her.""
Corisande looked at herself in the mirror.
Her face was pale. A faint bruise was beginning to appear near her collarbone. She had not expected Theron to strike her, and the memory of his foot hitting her still made her stomach tighten.
But she was not frightened enough to leave.
Not yet.
If she walked away now, she would lose the house, the reputation, and the life she had spent years building.
More importantly, she would lose control of the story.
"No," she whispered.
"I need to understand what he's planning.""
"Corisande, you are not thinking clearly.""
"I'm thinking perfectly clearly.""
She ended the call.
Then she opened the video.
The recording began with Eirlys standing beside the table, crying. The slap was unmistakable. Corisande watched herself raise her hand, strike the little girl, and turn away.
Her lips tightened.
"Stupid child.""
She fast-forwarded.
There was the stumble.
There was the splash.
Then Theron appeared.
The recording shook as he crossed the courtyard. His voice was audible, though the wind distorted some of his words.
Did you hit my daughter?
Corisande's own answer followed.
It was one slap. She's fine.
Then the kick.
She watched it twice.
On the third viewing, she stopped the video immediately before Theron's foot struck her.
The image showed him standing over her, Eirlys in his arms.
Without the seconds before it, the scene looked different.
Not innocent.
Not entirely.
But different enough to be useful.
Corisande saved a copy.
Then she sent a message to her family's lawyer.
*I need you at the estate tonight. There has been an incident involving Theron. Bring everything we discussed about the marriage agreement.*
She put the phone down.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Mrs. Viremont?""
It was Mabel, the housekeeper.
"What?""
"Mr. Viremont asked me to bring Miss Eirlys some food. He also asked whether you needed a doctor.""
Corisande's mouth tightened.
"Tell him I'm fine.""
"Of course, ma'am.""
"And Mabel?""
"Yes?""
"Don't repeat what happened outside.""
The housekeeper hesitated.
Corisande rose from the vanity.
"Did you hear me?""
"Yes, ma'am.""
"Good. You have worked here a long time. I would hate to see you lose your position over a misunderstanding.""
Mabel lowered her eyes.
"I understand.""
When the footsteps faded, Corisande returned to her phone.
She opened the video-editing application she used for her social media posts. She was good at removing pauses, trimming awkward expressions, and making ordinary moments appear extraordinary.
A few taps shortened the recording.
The slap disappeared.
So did the argument.
She kept the part where Theron rushed toward the pool, the part where she reached for the edge, and the part where his foot struck her.
Then she watched it again.
It looked terrible.
She smiled without humor.
"Now let's see you explain that.""
Across the mansion, Theron sat on the edge of Eirlys's bed while a pediatrician examined her cheek.
The little girl had stopped crying, but she had become unusually quiet. She held a stuffed rabbit against her chest, rubbing one of its worn ears between her fingers.
Dr. Elena Marsh shone a small light into her eyes.
"Does this hurt, sweetheart?""
Eirlys nodded.
"Only when I touch it?""
Another nod.
"All right. We won't touch it anymore.""
Theron stood beside the bed with his arms folded. He had changed out of his suit, but he still looked as though he were waiting for someone to deliver a verdict.
"Is she going to be all right?"" he asked.
Elena put away the light.
"Physically, the injury appears minor. I'll document what I observed, and you should seek immediate care if she develops worsening pain, unusual drowsiness, vomiting, or any other concerning symptoms.""
"And emotionally?""
The doctor looked at Eirlys.
"She's frightened. That's understandable.""
Theron swallowed.
"Can I speak with you outside?""
Elena nodded.
He followed her into the hallway, leaving the bedroom door partly open.
"Tell me the truth," he said.
"How serious is this?""
"The mark is consistent with what you've described. I can't determine everything that happened from an examination.""
"I saw it happen.""
"I understand.""
"No, Doctor. You don't."" His voice faltered.
"I saw her face. I heard my wife say it was nothing.""
Elena regarded him carefully.
"Mr. Viremont, I need you to understand something. Your daughter has just experienced a frightening event.
She needs calm, predictable adults around her. Whatever happened between you and your wife, please don't make Eirlys responsible for either of your reactions.""
The words struck deeper than he expected.
Theron looked through the doorway.
Eirlys was sitting against the pillows, staring at her rabbit.
"Did I frighten her?"" he asked.
Elena did not answer immediately.
"She watched you push another adult into a pool. You may have intended to protect her, but she is too young to understand your reasons.""
Theron shut his eyes.
For the first time since returning home, he felt the full weight of what he had done.
"I wasn't thinking.""
"Then start thinking now.""
He nodded.
When Elena left, Theron returned to the bedroom.
He sat beside his daughter.
"Hey, little bird.""
Eirlys looked at him.
"Are you mad at Mommy?""
He had prepared himself for questions about the slap. He had prepared himself to explain that nobody was allowed to hurt her.
He had not prepared himself for that.
"No," he said carefully.
"I'm not mad at you.""
"Mommy was mad at me.""
Theron reached for her hand, then stopped before touching it.
"Your mommy should not have hit you.""
"Because I'm little?""
"Because hitting isn't how we treat people.""
Eirlys considered this.
"Then why did you kick Mommy?""
Theron felt as if the room had tilted beneath him.
He could have offered an excuse. He could have told her that he had been protecting her, that grown-ups sometimes made mistakes, that her mother had deserved to be stopped.
Instead, he forced himself to meet her eyes.
"Because I made a bad choice.""
"Like Mommy?""
"Yes. Like Mommy.""
Eirlys's eyes filled again.
"Are you going to kick me?""
The question destroyed the last defense he had built around himself.
"No."" His voice broke.
"Never, sweetheart. I would never want to hurt you.""
She studied his face as though searching for a promise she could trust.
Then she climbed into his lap.
Theron held her gently, keeping his arms loose enough for her to move away whenever she wanted.
"I love you," he whispered.
Eirlys rested her head against his chest.
"Can Daddy stay?""
"All night.""
He meant it.
But at 6:17 that evening, his phone began vibrating.
The first message came from his sister.
*Theron, what on earth have you done? Call me.*
The second came from a business partner.
*Is this video real?*
Then another.
And another.
Theron opened the link.
A thirty-second clip filled his screen.
Corisande stood beside the swimming pool, soaked and helpless-looking. The footage began with her trying to climb out. Then Theron appeared and kicked her backward into the water.
There was no slap.
No crying child.
No argument.
Just a wealthy husband assaulting his wife.
The caption read:
*I never thought the man I married would become the person I fear most. Today, our daughter watched him attack me. I don't know how to protect her anymore.*
Theron stared at the screen.
His phone rang.
His lawyer's name appeared.
"Theron," Marcus Hale said without greeting him, "I need you to listen carefully. That video is spreading, and Corisande has already contacted counsel.""
"She hit Eirlys.""
"Do you have proof?""
"I saw the mark. The doctor documented it.""
"That's important. But the video is going to shape people's first impressions. We need the full recording, witness statements, and a clear account of what happened.""
Theron looked toward the bedroom.
Eirlys had fallen asleep against her rabbit, one hand curled beneath her cheek.
"What is Corisande asking for?"" he said.
"At the moment? Nothing publicly. Privately, her lawyer has requested an urgent meeting.""
"About what?""
Marcus paused.
"Your marriage agreement. And custody.""
Theron gripped the phone.
"She wants to use this against me?""
"Theron, the footage shows you kicking her into a swimming pool while holding your daughter. You may have context, but context doesn't erase what the footage shows.""
The line went quiet.
Then Marcus added, "There's something else.""
"What?""
"Corisande's lawyer says she has evidence that your marriage has been unsafe for a long time.""
Theron frowned.
"That's a lie.""
"Then we need to establish that.""
Theron ended the call and stared at the frozen image on his phone.
In the video, he looked like a stranger.
A man with a cold expression and a raised foot.
A man who had forgotten that protecting someone and frightening them were not always opposites.
Then another message appeared.
This one came from Corisande.
*You had your chance to control what happened today. Now I'll decide what everyone gets to see.*
A second message followed.
*And if you want to keep Eirlys, you should start worrying about what she's going to say when someone asks her what kind of father you are.*
Theron looked at the bedroom door.
May you like
His daughter was sleeping peacefully.
But somewhere beyond those walls, the woman who had struck her had begun preparing to take her away.
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