Chapter 3 - THE BLUE LIGHTS OF TRUTH
The red and blue lights flashed against the expensive drapes,
casting a rhythmic glow over the panicked faces of the Sterling family.
Two officers entered the house,
their boots loud on the marble foyer.
They didn't look impressed by the grand piano or the gold-leafed mirrors.
They looked at the table.
They looked at the broken porcelain.
And they looked at me.
"Who called?"
the younger officer asked,
his hand resting on his belt.
"I did,"
I said,
remaining in my seat.
I pointed to the blood on the table,
then to the wound on my head.
"My husband threw a plate at me because I wouldn't give his mother my property."
The officer turned to Jackson,
who was still on the floor,
looking small and pathetic.
"Sir,
stand up."
Genesis tried to intervene,
stepping into the officer's path.
"Officer,
this is just a domestic misunderstanding."
"My son has been under a lot of stress."
The officer didn't even look at her.
"Did you see what happened,
ma'am?"
Genesis hesitated,
her loyalty to her son warring with her fear of the law.
"I...
I was carving the lamb."
The officer looked at the other guests.
"Any of you?"
Silence.
A heavy,
cowardly silence.
"They all saw it,"
I said,
standing up to meet the paramedics who had just walked in.
"But they won't tell you,
because they're Sterlings."
"And Sterlings don't admit to crimes."
The paramedic led me to the foyer,
away from the table and the stench of failed lamb.
He began to clean the wound,
his touch gentle and clinical.
"You're going to need stitches,"
he whispered,
looking at the depth of the cut.
"I'll be fine,"
I said,
my eyes fixed on the dining room where the officers were now handcuffing Jackson.
"No!
You can't do this!"
Jackson screamed,
his voice echoing through the house.
"Dad!
Do something!"
His father just turned away,
unable to look his son in the eye.
The officers led Jackson past me,
and for a moment,
our gazes met.
I didn't see the man I had married three years ago.
I saw a predator who had finally been muzzled.
"I'm going to divorce you,
Jackson,"
I said,
my voice a cold whisper.
"And I'm going to take everything you thought you were entitled to."
"You're nothing without me!"
he yelled as they pushed him out the door.
"You're just a girl from St. Paul!"
I watched the patrol car pull away,
the blue lights fading into the darkness of Hidden Hills.
Genesis stood in the doorway,
her face a mask of hatred.
"You've destroyed this family,
Maya."
"No,
Genesis,"
I said,
picking up my handbag.
"I just stopped being the one who pays for your lies."
I walked out of the house,
past the expensive cars and the manicured lawns,
and got into the ambulance.
As the doors closed,
May you like
I realized that for the first time in years,
I could breathe.
