Chapter 1 - THE SILVER SCISSORSAva Kingsley saw the silver scissors in the mirror before she felt Clarissa’s hand close around her hair.
The six-year-old stood in the grand entrance hallway of the Kingsley mansion in Greenwich, Connecticut.
Cold blue evening light entered through the open double doors.
Warm crystal sconces illuminated the gray paneled walls and polished black marble floor.
Ava wore a pale-yellow party dress and white shoes.
Her long blonde hair had been divided into two neat ponytails, each tied with a white ribbon.
Clarissa Kingsley stood behind her.
Her dark-brown hair fell over the shoulders of a fitted burgundy sequined gown. Diamond earrings flashed as she moved.
In one hand, she held the large silver scissors.
The other gripped the middle of Ava’s right ponytail.
“Hold still,” Clarissa ordered.
Ava stared at their reflections.
“Why?”
“Because you embarrassed me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You refused to call me Mom in front of everyone.”
“You’re Clarissa.”
Clarissa’s fingers tightened.
“I have taken care of you for two years.”
“My mommy was Evelyn.”
“Your mother is dead.”
Ava’s eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t say that.”
Clarissa smiled.
It was not a kind smile.
“You want to keep looking like her?”
Ava tried to turn.
Clarissa pulled the ponytail hard enough to make her cry out.
“Stop moving.”
At the top of the staircase, nine-year-old Ben Kingsley heard his sister.
He wore a mustard-yellow polo shirt and dark trousers.
He ran toward the hallway.
Clarissa opened the scissors.
The blades reflected Ava’s terrified face.
“Please don’t cut it.”
“You should have thought about that before correcting me.”
Ava looked toward the open doors.
Their father, Mason, had left for a business dinner in Manhattan.
He would not return until late.
Clarissa knew that.
She placed the thick right ponytail between the blades.
Ava screamed.
“Ben!”
Clarissa closed the scissors.
The first forceful snip cut through part of the blonde hair.
Individual strands separated and curled away from the steel.
The ponytail remained attached by a thick section.
Clarissa opened the blades again.
Ava sobbed.
“No!”
The scissors closed a second time.
The remaining hair gave way.
The severed blonde lock dropped from Clarissa’s hand.
It twisted once through the air with natural weight.
Then it landed softly on the black marble floor.
Ava stared at it.
Her right ponytail now ended halfway above the left one.
The cut edge was visibly uneven.
Clarissa examined her work in the mirror.
A brief expression of satisfaction crossed her face.
Then Ben reached the bottom of the staircase.
He saw the scissors.
He saw his sister’s uneven hair.
He saw the severed lock on the floor.
“What did you do?”
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Clarissa turned toward him.
And behind Ben, the mansion’s double doors began opening wider.
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