The air outside the hospital parking lot was thick with tension, as though even the clouds above sensed the undercurrents of deceit. The Anstorne family walked briskly toward their car, their designer shoes tapping sharply against the pavement. Madeline's heels clicked rhythmically, almost like a ticking bomb counting down to something none of them could yet see.
Maxime's jaw clenched as he slid into the backseat, the low hum of the engine barely drowning out the storm inside his mind. With a tight glance at his wife and daughter, he finally broke the silence.
"Did either of you have a hand in this accident?"
Madeline's smile was slow and calculated, as though she had been expecting this question all along. Her red lipstick didn't falter. "Of course not," she said smoothly. "You told us to lay low, Maxime, and we did. Why would we act without your approval?"
Juliette nodded quickly beside her mother, but her fingers twisted nervously in her lap. Maxime narrowed his eyes at them.
