Chapter 5: The Crack
The first sign that something was wrong reached Christopher in the form of a look.
Mr. Harrington no longer smiled when he passed. Two of the senior partners who had earlier raised their glasses now spoke to each other in low voices while glancing toward Brenda. A woman who had once been warm toward Christopher offered him only the briefest nod before turning away.
Brenda noticed it too.
“Why is everyone acting strange?” she murmured, still smiling for anyone who might be watching.
Christopher took a sip of champagne and scanned the room.
“You’re imagining it.”
But he was not as certain as he sounded.
He had chosen not to question Brenda when she appeared in Vivian’s gown. He had chosen not to object when the host introduced her as his wife. At the time, it had felt like the simplest way to avoid embarrassment.
Now, simplicity was beginning to look expensive.
Across the ballroom, Luke stood near a pillar, calm and unreadable. When Christopher’s eyes met his son’s, Luke did not look away.
That, more than anything else, unsettled him.
Christopher leaned closer to Brenda.
“Where is Vivian, really?”
Brenda’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly.
“I told you. She was unwell. She needed rest.”
“And the dress?”
“She said I could borrow it.”
Even as she spoke the lie, Brenda could feel the air in the room changing. Conversations near them had grown quieter. A few phones were out. Someone, somewhere, was already texting.
Luke’s first move had been small.
But it had been precise.
And for the first time that night, Christopher Albright felt the faintest crack appear beneath the perfect surface of the evening he thought he controlled.
He did not yet know that his wife was no longer in bed.
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He did not yet know that she was already dressed in black.
He did not yet know that the real performance was only beginning.
