She rushed to the first dress—slashed from top to bottom. The second—cut straight through. The third and fourth—completely destroyed, hanging in torn strips.
Madison dropped to her knees, stunned.
The door opened.
Frank stood there, blocking the frame. Behind him, Carol refused to meet her eyes. Tyler leaned in the hallway, smirking.
“You did this to yourself,” Frank said coldly. “Maybe now you’ll learn you’re not better than us just because you play soldier.”
Madison couldn’t even respond. She searched her mother’s face for something—anything—but found nothing. Tyler chuckled.
“No dress, no wedding,” Frank added with satisfaction. “Problem solved.”
They left her there in the dark.
Madison didn’t cry.
She sat on the floor, surrounded by ruined fabric, until the pain inside her stopped burning.
