Chapter 6

A wave of pure terror washed over Elizebeth. It was so intense it stole her breath.

"No," she choked out, scrambling on her knees towards him. "Floyd, please. Don't."

She grabbed the hem of his pants, her body wracked with sobs. "I'll do anything. Please, don't hurt them. It's my fault. It was all my fault."

He looked down at her, his eyes as cold and hard as stone. "You should have thought of that before you decided to act out."

He kicked her hand away. "It's too late for apologies."

Jaylah stood to the side, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "She needs to be taught a lesson, Floyd. She's a danger to all of us."

Her mother nodded in agreement. "She's unstable. She belongs in an institution."

The words hit Elizebeth like physical blows. These people were enjoying her suffering. They were reveling in her despair.

A guard came to the door. "Sir, the mother is here."

Floyd nodded. "Bring her in."

A moment later, two guards dragged her mother into the room. Her mother was a small, frail woman, her face pale with fear.

"Mom!" Elizebeth screamed, trying to get to her feet.

"Elizebeth? What's happening?" her mother cried, her eyes wide with confusion and terror.

"Don't worry, Mom. I'll handle this," Elizebeth said, her voice shaking.

Floyd smirked. "You'll handle this? You can't even handle yourself." He gestured to the guards. "Take the old woman to the warehouse. Elizebeth, you're invited to watch."

The guards dragged Elizebeth out of the room, her pleas and screams echoing down the marble hallway.

They took her to a dark, dusty warehouse on the edge of the property. Her mother was tied to a chair in the center of the room. She was weeping, her body trembling.

Elizebeth fought against the guards, a desperate strength born of fear surging through her. She broke free and ran to her mother, throwing her arms around her.

"It's okay, Mom. I'm here," she whispered, her own tears mixing with her mother's. She pushed away the guards who tried to pull her off.

Floyd and Jaylah entered the warehouse, their steps slow and deliberate. They looked like predators who had cornered their prey.

One of Floyd's men carried in a metal bucket filled with hot coals, the air shimmering with heat above it.

Her mother shrieked in terror.

"Now, Elizebeth," Floyd said, his voice dangerously calm. "You're going to admit that you intentionally burned Jaylah's mother. You're going to admit that you're a jealous, vindictive woman who can't stand my happiness."

The pain in Elizebeth's heart was a physical agony. She looked at her terrified mother, then back at Floyd's merciless face.

"Please, Floyd," she begged one last time, her voice cracking. "Don't do this."

"Admit it," he said, his voice rising. "Or the coals go on your mother's hands."

She had to protect her mother. That was all that mattered now.

"I did it," she whispered, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. "I admit it. I was jealous. I wanted to hurt her."

She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, her body shaking with grief and despair.

Jaylah laughed, a high, piercing sound that grated on Elizebeth's raw nerves. "See, Floyd? I told you she was a liar." She leaned in and whispered to him, "She doesn't deserve to have hands that can create such beautiful things. Not when she uses them for evil."

Floyd' s eyes darkened. He looked at the bucket of coals, then at Elizebeth.

"You have a choice," he said, his voice a low growl. "Your hands, or your mother's."

Her mother, hearing this, began to scream at her. "It's your fault! You brought this on us! You're a curse, just like he said! Let it be you! Not me!"

Elizebeth's heart went numb. Even her own mother had abandoned her. The world had become a cold, empty place.

She looked at Floyd, her eyes devoid of all emotion. "Me," she said, her voice a hollow echo in the vast, dark warehouse. "Let it be me."