Chapter 4 - THE SOUND OF THE CEREMONY
Through the heavy steel door, I could hear Lila’s vows. They sounded like a taunt. I pounded on the door until my knuckles bled, screaming for help, but the acoustics of the ballroom absorbed the sound. I felt the baby shift—an erratic, frantic movement that signaled distress. I had to get out.
I began systematically tearing through the shelves. I found a heavy brass lamp, a stack of heavy decorative vases, and a metal cart, but nothing that could breach the reinforced door. I was running out of energy, the labor pains intensifying, my body struggling to manage the physical strain of birth while my mind fought the terrifying reality that my own mother had left me to suffer for the sake of a photograph.
