Tiana Thorne laughed, "Cindy Sloane, you have a psychological illness, don't you? Even though Sinclaire can't save your mother, you still use any means necessary to destroy other people's things. It's not hatred that drives your schemes, but your selfish desires."
"I'm doing this for my mother," Cindy Sloane almost shouted.
Tiana's lazy voice was infinitely cold, "You're just envious of what others have that you don't. You want to destroy everything others don't possess. At heart, you're sick, and too bad you ran into me because I won't give you a single thing you want."
Her exposed mind left her almost deranged, "No, that's not it, it's not..."
"Why isn't it? The only thing you can pride yourself on is your mother, yet you've exploited all her good to do bad things, Cindy Sloane. What right do you have to ridicule others? How are you and Rosie Rowan any different?"
In agony, Cindy Sloane softly sank to the floor, murmuring, "No, it's not like that, it's not..."
