Time seemed to slow as Eleanor stepped backward toward the cliff edge, dragging Isabelle with her. The gun was still pressed to Isabelle's temple, Eleanor's finger on the trigger, her expression showing someone who'd crossed from desperation into pure nihilistic rage.
"Mother, don't—" Alexander started forward, but Emily grabbed his arm, holding him back. One wrong move, one moment of panic, and Eleanor might pull that trigger or throw both of them over the edge.
"Don't you dare," Eleanor said, her voice carrying a terrible calmness. "Don't you dare try to stop me, Alexander. You've destroyed everything I built. My company, my organization, my power. If I can't have any of it, then you lose something too."
Her heel found the edge of the cliff, ice and loose rock crumbling beneath her weight. Isabelle whimpered, tears freezing on her cheeks in the mountain cold.
