A brick crashed through Amelia's front window at dawn.
Glass scattered across her living room floor like frozen tears. Attached to the brick was a note written in red marker: "BULLIES DON'T DESERVE FAME."
Amelia jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. Cold morning air rushed through the broken window. Outside, she could see more reporters than yesterday. They had cameras pointed at her house like weapons.
Her phone showed 847 missed calls overnight.
The doorbell wouldn't stop ringing. Someone was pounding on her door so hard the whole house shook.
"Liya! Come out and face what you did!"
"You destroyed that poor girl's dreams!"
"We know you're in there, you fake!"
Amelia crawled to her kitchen, staying below the windows so no one could see her. Her hands were bleeding from cleaning up the glass, but she barely noticed. Everything hurt too much already.
She turned on her laptop with shaking fingers. The video had 50 million views. Fifty million people had watched her supposedly crush a young girl's spirit.
But the comments were even worse than the night before.
Someone had made a cartoon of her face with devil horns. It had been shared 200,000 times.
A famous comedian had made a joke about her on his late-night show. "What do you call Liya without autotune? A bully with a bad voice!"
The audience had laughed so hard they almost fell out of their chairs.
Even worse, people were making fake videos of their own. Dozens of them. Kids pretending to be her, acting mean to their friends. #LiyaBully was trending worldwide.
Amelia's stomach felt sick. She ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Her phone rang. It was Lila, her best friend.
"Lila, thank god. Everyone else has—"
"Amy, I can't be seen talking to you right now."
The words hit Amelia like ice water. "What?"
"My manager says being connected to you could hurt my modeling career. The fashion magazines are asking questions about our friendship."
"But you know me! You know I would never hurt anyone!"
"I thought I knew you. But that video looks so real, Amy. Your voice, your face, everything. How do I know what else you've been hiding?"
Amelia felt her heart breaking into pieces. "Lila, we've been friends since we were twelve."
"I'm sorry. I can't risk my future for this mess."
The line went dead.
Amelia sank to her bathroom floor and cried until no more tears would come.
Around noon, her doorbell rang differently. Not angry pounding, but a gentle knock.
"Amy? It's Mom and Dad."
Amelia crawled to the front door and unlocked it. Her parents rushed inside, followed by two police officers.
"We had to get a police escort just to reach your house," her father said, pulling her into a hug.
"The crowd outside is getting dangerous," Officer Martinez explained. "Some people are throwing things. We're here to help you get out safely."
"Get out?" Amelia asked. "Where can I go? This video is everywhere."
Her mother held her close. "Come home with us, honey. To our house where you grew up. Away from all this madness."
"But the reporters will just follow me there."
"Not if we're smart about it," Officer Martinez said. "We'll create a distraction. My partner will walk out the front door wearing your jacket and sunglasses. While everyone's watching her, we'll sneak you out the back."
As they planned the escape, Amelia's phone rang again. Marcus.
"Don't answer it," her father warned.
But Amelia had to know. "Hello?"
"It's over, Amelia." Marcus sounded tired and defeated. "Starlight Entertainment just dropped you. They're demanding you pay back your signing bonus. Two million dollars."
Amelia's legs gave out. She sat down hard on the floor.
"All your upcoming concerts are cancelled. The venues won't honor the contracts anymore. They're afraid of riots."
"Marcus, please. There has to be something—"
"Three more companies pulled out this morning. Your perfume deal, your clothing line, even the charity you work with. Nobody wants to be connected to you."
"But I'm innocent!"
"Innocent doesn't matter anymore. Public opinion is everything, and public opinion says you're guilty."
He hung up without saying goodbye.
Amelia's mother knelt beside her. "We'll figure this out, sweetheart. We'll hire lawyers, investigators, anyone we need to clear your name."
"With what money?" Amelia whispered. "I just lost everything."
Officer Martinez checked his watch. "We need to move now. The crowd is getting bigger."
They helped Amelia pack a small bag. As they prepared to leave, she looked around her beautiful house one last time. Six months ago, she had been on the cover of every magazine. Now she was sneaking out of her own home like a criminal.
The escape plan worked perfectly. While reporters chased the decoy out front, Amelia slipped out the back door and into her father's old truck.
As they drove away, Amelia watched her neighborhood disappear in the side mirror. She might never see her house again.
"Turn on the radio," she said quietly.
Her father hesitated. "Amy, I don't think—"
"Please. I need to know how bad it is."
He turned to a news station.
"—Selene Williams gave an emotional interview this morning, describing the trauma she experienced after Liya's attack. The young singer says she almost quit music entirely—"
Amelia turned up the volume.
Selene's voice filled the truck, sweet and innocent: "She made me feel so small, so worthless. I cried for hours after she yelled at me. I just wanted her approval, you know? She was my hero."
"That's a lie," Amelia said. "Every word of it is a lie."
But then Selene said something that made Amelia's blood freeze.
"The worst part was, she mentioned something about my real name. About things I thought nobody knew. It felt like she had been watching me, studying me, waiting to hurt me."
Amelia grabbed her father's arm. "Dad, stop the truck."
"What's wrong?"
"Selene just said I mentioned her real name. But I never learned her real name. I only talked to her for five minutes, and she introduced herself as Selene."
Her mother turned around from the front seat. "So?"
"So how would I know her real name unless I had been investigating her?" Amelia's mind was racing. "And how would she know that I mentioned it unless..."
The horrible truth hit her like lightning.
"Unless she made the fake video herself. She's been planning this. She knew exactly what to make me say to sound convincing."
Her father pulled over on the side of the road. "Amy, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying Selene Williams isn't the victim. She's the one trying to destroy me."
Amelia's phone buzzed with a new message from the unknown number:
"Enjoying your fall from grace? Phase one is complete. Tomorrow we release the video of you stealing from the children's hospital charity fund. Hope you kept those receipts from fifteen years ago."
Amelia stared at the message in horror.
She had never stolen anything in her life. But somehow, they were going to make it look like she had.
And if people believed the first video, they would definitely believe the second one.
"Mom, Dad," she whispered, "we need to get to our old house right now. I think I know what they're looking for."