He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 318

In that split second, time seemed to freeze entirely.

The screams from the crowd stretched out into a muffled, distant drone.

The overhead spotlights glared blindingly white, catching the arc of the airborne liquid and refracting a sinister, near-translucent glint.

Lyla's twisted face hung suspended in the shifting light, her features scrunched together like a painting ripped violently down the middle.

From Evelyn's point of view, the voices and the moving silhouettes all faded into the background.

All that remained was that lethal liquid hurtling straight at her face, carrying a pungent, metallic reek of acid.

Her eyes widened in horror. Her fingers twitched, raising a fraction of an inch, but she couldn't even form the reflex to dodge.

In the crowd, Lucas's expression completely shattered.

His first instinct was to lunge forward. His right foot was already moving, his hand forcefully shoving a reporter out of his way.

But the distance was too great. The front row of guests was packed like a solid wall. He was never going to make it in time.

Arthur was slightly closer, his dress shoes screeching sharply against the polished floor.

Yet, paralyzed by the sheer shock of the sudden attack, he couldn't react in time, a strangled syllable dying halfway up his throat.

Distant water cannot put out a nearby fire.

The only person close enough to her mother was Sienna.

In that life-or-death fraction of a second, she had zero time to think.

Pure, primal instinct completely overrode all logic.

She didn't even check to see what was being thrown. Driven solely by the desperate urge to shield her family, she launched herself away from the easel like a bullet.

Her heels snapped against the wooden stage. One heel broke clean off, sending her stumbling forward violently.

Using every ounce of strength in her body, she shoved Evelyn—who was still frozen in shock—hard to the side.

"Mom!"

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