But they were past words.
Muriel’s nails raked across my mother’s cheek, leaving thin red lines in their wake. Maddy responded by shoving her — hard — and they stumbled into the coffee table, sending another spray of crystal across the room.
I couldn’t breathe.
This wasn’t cutting remarks anymore.
This was feral.
Archie’s arm tightened around me, pulling me back another step as Muriel swung wildly and missed, catching the edge of a lamp instead.
It toppled.
Shattered.
Shards of glass skidded across the floor — spinning, glinting —
Too close.
Too close to my feet.
Archie moved before I did.
He pivoted, moving me bodily before shifting to be in front of me again and acting like a barrier as another picture frame smashed into the wall where we’d been.
“Mr. Archie—” Jeremy warned, trying to restrain Muriel without hurting her as she thrashed in his grip.
“Let go of me!” she shrieked.
“You don’t get to put your hands on me—” Maddy snarled, shoving forward again.
Another crash. Another spray of glass.
It happened so fast — Muriel breaking free of Jeremy’s grip just long enough to swing again, Maddy responding with a shove that sent them both careening into the liquor cart.
Bottles fell.
Exploded.
The smell of alcohol filled the air.
One bottle shattered so close to me that fragments skittered across the marble and struck Archie’s shoe.
That was it.
Something in him changed. He stepped forward. Cold. Controlled. Utterlypissed.
“Enough.”
The single word cut through the chaos like a blade.
Both women froze.
I’d heard him use that tone before, the last time had been at the party when Jake outed my relationship with Mathieu. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t have to.
Muriel’s breathing was ragged. Maddy’s chest heaved. Jeremy stood between them, hands raised, jaw tight.
Archie didn’t look at either of them right away.
