Chapter 3 - THE LOCK ON THE MARBLE FLOORClarissa sat on the floor with one hand against her cheek.
“You hit me.”
Mason’s breathing was heavy.
“Yes.”
He did not deny it.
Ben held Ava tighter.
The little girl stared at her severed hair.
It looked strangely alive on the marble.
One white ribbon remained tied around each ponytail, but the right side was now half the length of the left.
Mason stepped away from Clarissa.
“Do not touch the children.”
“You assaulted me.”
“I did.”
“You’ll lose them.”
The threat stopped him.
Clarissa saw it and stood slowly.
“She has no injury,” she said, pointing toward Ava.
“You cut her hair while she screamed.”
“I was fixing it.”
“With those?”
Mason pointed at the large scissors.
Clarissa looked toward Ben.
“He took them first.”
Ben shook his head desperately.
“No.”
Clarissa’s face remained calm.
“You were playing near the mirror. Ava moved. You cut the ponytail. Then you tried to give me the scissors.”
“That never happened.”
“Your father knows you have anger problems.”
“I don’t!”
Ava stepped from behind him.
“He protected me.”
Clarissa turned toward her.
“Be careful what you say.”
Mason moved between them.
“You will not threaten her.”
“She is confused.”
“She is frightened.”
“Because Ben cut her hair.”
Mason looked at the mirror.
When he entered, the scissors were hidden behind Clarissa’s back.
The reflection revealed them.
The severed lock fell beside her foot.
But he had not witnessed the actual cut.
Clarissa understood the gap.
She was already building a new version of events inside it.
Mason removed his smartphone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Clarissa stared.
“You would report your own wife?”
“I am reporting what happened to my children.”
“And what you did to me?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
He called emergency services and described both incidents.
Clarissa cutting Ava’s hair.
Mason striking Clarissa.
He did not use paternal fury as an excuse.
He stated the sequence.
Then he called the family doctor.
Ava had no physical injury, but he wanted her evaluated.
Clarissa walked toward the scissors.
Mason blocked her.
“Leave them.”
“They belong to me.”
“They are evidence.”
She laughed.
“Of a haircut?”
“Of whatever happened here.”
Ben pointed toward the large mirror.
“Dad, look.”
The mirror reflected the open front doors.
Above those doors was the exterior security camera.
Its lens faced the entrance.
The hallway itself was outside its direct view.
But the mirror captured the room behind it.
If the camera had been active, the reflection might have recorded everything.
Clarissa’s face changed.
She knew the camera existed.
She had forgotten what the mirror could see.
Then the mansion’s alarm panel emitted a soft tone.
A notification appeared on Mason’s phone.
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FRONT-DOOR CAMERA OFFLINE — MANUAL DISCONNECTION DETECTED.
Someone had disabled it six minutes before Mason arrived.
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