"Mr. Peay, please calm down. This isn't the time for this," someone called out, trying to pull the room back from the edge.
Before the noise could settle, Sera stepped forward. Her voice was steady, carrying a quiet authority that made people pause.
"Bring out the paintings Elena left with us."
A moment later, several children walked in, arms trembling slightly as they carefully carried canvases onto the stage.
The second the paintings were set down, the air changed.
Whispers spread fast, sharp and excited.
"That style… it's S. No doubt about it."
"Those strokes that's her hand. Elena really was S."
Gasps followed, one after another.
"So she was fighting her darkness alone while her own family ignored her?"
"And they let someone else take credit for everything?"
"She was their blood. How could they do that?"
The crowd's mood flipped in an instant.
