Chapter 1 - THIRTY STEPS
Vanessa Kensington’s hands were still in the air when Khloe Harrington hit the first marble step.
The sound was not a scream.
It was a hard, sickening crack that made every lawyer in the Montgomery County Courthouse turn at once.
Khloe rolled down the staircase, one arm wrapped around her eight-month pregnant belly, the other reaching for anything that could stop her fall. Her navy dress tore at the shoulder. Her head struck the brass railing. By the time she reached the bottom, blood was spreading beneath her like spilled paint.
“Call 911!” someone shouted.
Harrison Cole was already running.
He dropped beside his sister so hard his knees slammed into the stone. His palms split open when he caught himself, but he did not feel it.
“Khloe. Look at me.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Harry…”
“I’m here.”
“The baby.” Her breath caught. “Please save my baby.”
Then her body went frighteningly still.
At the top of the stairs, Vanessa stared down, white-faced and frozen. Beside her stood Richard Harrington, Khloe’s husband, his mouth open but his feet planted in place.
He did not run to his wife.
He did not call her name.
He looked at Vanessa.
That single glance told Harrison more than any confession ever could.
A courthouse security officer rushed forward. “Sir, move back. The paramedics are coming.”
Harrison never took his eyes off Richard.
“Lock down every exit,” he said.
The officer hesitated. “I can’t do that without—”
“You have a pregnant woman bleeding on courthouse property, thirty witnesses, and a suspect standing at the top of the stairs.” Harrison’s voice was calm enough to be terrifying. “Lock the building down.”
Vanessa finally moved.
“It was an accident,” she whispered.
Harrison rose slowly.
His suit was streaked with Khloe’s blood. His hands were bleeding. His face showed no rage, no panic, no grief.
Only purpose.
“You pushed her,” he said.
Vanessa shook her head too quickly. “She came at me. I protected myself.”
Richard stepped between them. “Harrison, this isn’t the time.”
Harrison looked at him as if he were examining evidence.
“No,” he said. “This is exactly the time.”
Paramedics loaded Khloe onto a stretcher. One of them called out that the fetal heartbeat was dropping.
Harrison walked beside them until the ambulance doors closed.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.
DON’T LET THEM TAKE HER TO ST. MATTHEW’S.
THEY OWN THE SURGEON.
May you like
Harrison looked up.
Across the courthouse lobby, a woman in a gray coat turned and disappeared into the crowd.
