Chapter 7 - The Handcuffs and the Escape Plan
"Police! Stay where you are!" the lead officer commanded, his hand resting on his holster as he sprinted up the altar steps.
Victoria's eyes darted frantically toward the side doors, toward the windows, toward the altar table. She realized in an instant that her web of lies had completely collapsed. There was no escape hatch, no hidden exit, no wealthy savior coming to pull her out of this mess.
"You can't arrest me!" Victoria shrieked, backing away until her spine hit the stained-glass window behind the altar. "This was a civil family dispute! It was a prank! A wedding day joke!"
"Kidnapping, unfair imprisonment, identity theft, and grand larceny aren't family disputes, ma'am," the officer said coldly, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back."
"No! Get away from me!" Victoria thrashed and kicked as the officer grabbed her wrists, forcing her arms behind her back with practiced efficiency. The heavy click-click of the handcuffs locking into place echoed through the silent church like a gavel coming down in a courtroom.
As they hauled her down the center aisle, Victoria glared back at us with venomous hatred, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
"You haven't won!" she screamed, her face twisted in rage as the heavy oak doors opened to let her out into the cold daylight. "You'll never be rid of me, Chloe! Never!"
Then, the doors slammed shut, cutting off her voice entirely.
The cathedral fell into a profound, suffocating silence. Two hundred guests stood frozen, processing the cinematic madness that had just unfolded in front of their eyes.
I let out a long, shuddering breath, the adrenaline finally draining out of my system, leaving my limbs heavy and weak. I turned around and looked at Chloe. She was shivering, wrapped in the blanket, tears still tracking down her cheeks.
"Are you okay?" I asked, rushing to her side and pulling her into my arms. "Did she hurt you anywhere else?"
"I'm... I'm okay," Chloe sobbed softly against my chest. "Just bruised. And shaken up. But I'm okay."
"Daddy? Can we go home now?" Lily asked quietly, tugging on my jacket again. "I'm hungry."
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A weak, watery chuckle escaped my lips. I looked down at my daughter, scooped her up into my free arm, and held both of them—the two most important people in my world—against my heart.
"Yeah, baby," I whispered, kissing the top of Lily's head. "We're going home."
