Chapter 4 - The Uninvited Guest at Breakfast
Two days after surgery, my mother Althia swept into my temporary recovery apartment with an entourage of wedding planners and a forced, venomous smile. She demanded an immediate public apology on social media to save Sutton's reputation before the Sunday ceremony. I let her finish her rehearsed speech about family duty before I spun my wheelchair around. Instead of apologizing, I pressed a button on my tablet and streamed a high-definition security camera feed of the grand staircase directly onto the living room television. Althia froze as the audio played crystal clear: Sutton’s mocking laugh, her deliberate trip, and her explicit command to 'push the cripple out of the aesthetic.' My mother’s face went chalk white as I informed her that the police and my legal team were already en route.
