Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 221

Chapter 221

The detective froze the image at the moment of maximum extension. As you can see, this involves both grabbing and pushing motions. The initial contact

appears to be a grasp, which could support Miss Kennedy’s claim of seeking stability. However, the subsequent forward pressure and extension of the arms

suggests active force being applied toward Miss Vance’s center of mass.”

The silence that followed was absolute. I could hear the faint hum of the hospital’s ventilation system, the distant sound of a monitor beeping in another

room, the rush of blood in my own ears. Across from me, Sloane had gone very still, her face a carefully maintained mask of composure that was beginning

to show hairline cracks at the edges.

“However, Brown continued, and I felt my stomach drop at that single word, “Miss Kennedy has provided an alternative explanation for these events.”

Sloane’s voice, when it came, was tremulous but remarkably composed for someone who’d just been caught on camera pushing another person into a pool.

*Detective, I’m not denying that I grabbed her arm, or that there was contact. I can’t deny what’s clearly visible on that footage.”

She paused, one hand drifting to her stomach in a gesture that had probably become reflexive by now, a constant reminder to everyone watching of her

condition and vulnerability. “But I wasn’t trying to hurt Elara. I would never- Her voice caught convincingly. “That night, I’d been feeling dizzy all evening.

My obstetrician has documented that I’ve been experiencing severe pregnancy–related hypoglycemia. I was having an episode.”

I watched her weave the narrative with something approaching awe. It was masterful, really, the way she took the damning evidence and transformed it into

something almost sympathetic.

“I was trying to get Elara to move aside so I could reach the table, sit down, steady myself before I collapsed,” Sloane continued, her words coming faster now, gaining confidence. “I reached out to steady myself–yes, I grabbed her arm, I needed something to hold onto. But the pool deck was wet–you can see it in the footage if you look carefully–and I was wearing those ridiculous sandals with no traction.”

She pressed her hand to her chest, as if the memory itself was causing her physical pain. “When my feet started to slip, I tried to push away from her, to create space so I wouldn’t pull her down with me. That’s what you’re seeing in the video–me trying to push off, to regain my balance independently. But I’d already lost my footing, and instead of stabilizing myself, the momentum just… carried us both into the water.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “How could anyone think I would deliberately jump into a pool when I’m pregnant? When I was already feeling faint?” A single tear tracked down her cheek. “I was a victim too. I could have lost my baby.”

Ethan, who’d been silent since Julian’s brutal display of power earlier, couldn’t help himself. “Exactly! Sloane’s medical records show documented hypoglycemia and anemia. She’s been advised to avoid situations where she might lose consciousness. The idea that she would intentionally-

“Mr. Holt,” Brown interrupted with the weary patience of someone who’d heard too many character witnesse

ses in his career. “We’re reviewing evidence, not

testimony.”

But the damage was done. I could see it in the way the detective’s expression had shifted from clinical interest to something more skeptical, in the way even Julian’s posture had changed slightly, his certainty wavering.

My own voice surprised me when it emerged, rougher than I’d intended, scraped raw by chlorinated water and screaming and the weight of knowing that truth and proof weren’t always the same thing. “That’s not what happened.”

1/2