I watched as Fiona's face morphed from rage to panic. The mask she'd worn for so long was crumbling piece by piece in front of everyone.
"I..." she stammered, grasping for words. "This is all Elara's fault! Everything I did was because of her!"
The cameras swiveled back and forth between us like vultures waiting for the next piece of meat. I stood my ground, drawing strength from Bianca's solid presence beside me.
"Yes, I lied about the baby," Fiona admitted, her voice climbing higher. "But do you know what it's like living in her shadow? The illegitimate daughter who somehow excelled at everything?"
Her words hung in the air, heavy and venomous. I'd heard this twisted logic my entire life—that my very existence was a provocation, that my successes were somehow attacks against her.
