Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 254

Chapter 254

Elara

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Dr. Sterling raised her hand for silence, her curator’s authority reasserting itself. The organizing committee is convening an emergency session. We will

address this properly.”

The emergency judging session was announced for immediate convening. The original panel was dissolved, the three judges who’d given me impossibly know

scores quietly escorted out by security while the audience jeered.

I watched them go with a strange mixture of vindication and numbness, trying to process the revelation that my work had been deliberately suppresord, that

the Kennedy family’s reach extended even into supposedly anonymous artistic evaluation.

New judges were brought in–museum directors, established artists, critics whose names I recognized from Mrs. Castellano’s old magazines. The entier

process was projected onto the screens for everyone to witness, each score announced as it was recorded, the mathematical average calculated in real time

When my painting appeared for re–evaluation, the new judges leaned forward in their seats, studying it with the kind of focused attention that felt like

vindication and exposure all at once. The scores came in: 9.8, 9.5, 9.7, 10, 9.6.

The host’s voice rang out across the hall: After re–evaluation, the winner of this year’s Praxis Prize finals is–Elara Vance, for Rebirth!”

The applause was deafening. People rose to their feet, the standing ovation building like a storm. The livestream chat became a wall of congratulations

scrolling past faster than anyone could read. I stood frozen in place, tears streaming down my face, unable to reconcile this moment with the crushing

defeat I’d felt just minutes before.

Julian stood behind me, and when I glanced back I saw something in his eyes that looked like pride and heartbreak mixed together, as if he was watching me

achieve something he’d always known I could while simultaneously reckoning with how close I’d come to having it stolen from me.

The host approached with a new trophy and the prize check. “Elara, please come accept your award.”

I walked to the stage on legs that didn’t feel entirely solid, aware of every eye in the room tracking my movement. The trophy was heavier than I’d saprotn the check surreal in its reality. But as I took the microphone, something crystallized inside me–a clarity that had been building thrunghail the havia com

revelation.

“Thank you, I said, my voice steadier than I’d anticipated. Thank you for the applause and the recognition, I won’t be I wanted thak gazze dupetutak

once, I needed it to prove my value, to show that I belonged in spaces that had always told me I didn’t

I paused, letting that truth settle. “But I’m refusing this award.

The ball erupted in shocked murmurs. Even Dr. Sterling looked sued

that to be the

Manquisted. Camutok by the

thy

I continued before anyone could interrupt. This competition wes compromised from the beginnt that go deeper than there biased judges. Yes, there scaring corrected une trophy. I want acrept an honor till en system that was designed to schedule that

they wp to much

The murmuring dufted, transturned I saw people dinge with together * Hippiase that molt dis carrying a weight of understanding Bud felt my valuable Mops pat

Julian stood in the audience with an expounding wet pantan clearly for the first time and realizing had been losing th

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1:27 pm PP

Chapter 254

“But,” I said, and the room quieted again, I want to thank everyone who truly saw my work. Who looked past the scandal and the going and the family name to see what I was trying to say. I found Nota in the crowd, gave her a small nod. “Thank you to those who stood up woes it mattered

My voice softened, became more personal. I want to thank my friend Raven, who’s been there through everything, who showed me what a forbtion looks like. I took a breath. And I want to thank Julian Vane.”

I found him in the crowd, held his gaze even as my heart hammered. “You found Giulia. You brought her here when everyone else was trying to silence her You were there when I needed someone to believe me. The words cost me something to say aloud, an admission I wasn’t sure I was ready to make. But they

were true.

Then I said the thing I’d been holding back for two lifetimes, the confession that had been building pressure in my chest since I’d first mixed these colors, first put brush to canvas and let the truth pour out.

‘Most of all, I want to thank my inspiration for this piece. Lily.”

The hall went utterly silent. Even the livestream chat seemed to pause.

“The little hands in the painting–those are Lily’s hands. She was…” My voice cracked. I had to stop, swallow, force the words past the grief lodged in my throat. “She was a beautiful, brilliant little girl. And I failed her. I didn’t protect her. I let her get hurt.”

Tears blurred my vision but I kept going, needing to say this even if it destroyed me. “My only wish–my only real wish–is to see her again. To tell her I’m sorry. To tell her…” I couldn’t finish. The words dissolved into a sob I couldn’t contain.

“To tell her I love her.”

The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by scattered sounds of people crying. I set down the microphone with shaking hands and walked if the stage, the applause building behind me like a wave I couldn’t hear over the roaring in my ears.

I made it to the corridor before my legs gave out. I sagged against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor, my phone buzzing incessantity in my pocket with messages I couldn’t bring myself to check. The trophy I’d refused sat abandoned on the stage. The prize money I’d desperately need just days ago felt meaningless compared to the weight of what I’d just revealed.

Footsteps approached–measured, familiar, I looked up to find Julian standing over me, and the expression on his face made my breath cach, the hawkend shattered. Completely undone.

“Lily,” he said, and the way he spoke her name–careful, as if testing the weight of it–told me he understood this was impactul even if he did) and why. “Who is Lily?”

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