The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 117

She grabbed handfuls of Clarissa's lavish wedding gown, screaming and swinging at her like an absolute madwoman.

"Waaaaaah!"

Terrified by the horrific scene, little Manuel let out a piercing, ear-splitting wail from Clarissa's arms.

Dizzy from the blows, Clarissa could only instinctively curl up to shield the toddler, letting Lizzie's fists rain down on her.

Right in the middle of this chaotic, horrifyingly ugly brawl.

A sound no one expected suddenly cut through the air.

It was Manuel.

The two-year-old, who barely even knew how to speak.

Sobbing hysterically in sheer panic, he struggled out of his mother's frantic embrace. Reaching out with two chubby little hands, he pointed instinctively toward a very specific spot in the crowd and cried out clearly.

"Daddy!"

Those tiny hands weren't pointing at Elias's black-and-white memorial photo on the stage backdrop.

Nor were they pointing at some random stranger in the crowd.

They were reaching straight past the chaos, pointing directly at the man standing a few feet away—the pale, frozen man who had been acting like a bystander this entire time. Hackett.

In moments of sheer terror, a toddler instinctively seeks out the person they trust and rely on the most.

That single cry of "Daddy" sliced through the dead-silent room like a red-hot needle, overriding the screams and the fighting.

It pierced straight into the ears of every single person present.

Instantly.

All the noise stopped.

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