"And now that I, the man of the hour, am back, suddenly it's not the place to talk?"
Hackett's face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson.
At the head table, Barnum finally snapped out of his paralytic shock.
He slammed his hand on the table and stood up, desperately trying to leverage his patriarchal authority to rein in the catastrophe.
"Elias!"
But his shout was instantly swallowed by the roar of the crowd and the wailing child. It sounded utterly pathetic.
Nobody was listening to him.
Every eye in the room was locked onto the spectacular implosion of this powerful family.
Lizzie had entirely lost her mind.
She shoved the staff away and staggered toward Elias like a madwoman.
Grabbing his trench coat with trembling, manicured hands, she clung to him like he was her only lifeline.
Tears streamed down her wrinkled face as she sobbed and laughed hysterically.
"My boy! My boy! You're alive! I knew you weren't dead!"
She babbled the same phrase over and over, clutching his arm.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her head snapped toward the stage. Her bloodshot eyes locked onto the woman in the wedding dress.
Every ounce of motherly affection she had shown Clarissa vanished into thin air.
It was immediately replaced by the rabid, unhinged fury of a woman realizing she had been viciously betrayed.
"Clarissa!"
She shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at her.
Annelise's heart finally settled completely.
She watched Elias peel his gaze away from his mother's frantic face and level it at his pale, terrified younger brother.
Then he delivered his second lethal blow.
His aim was merciless, striking directly at the other architect of this grand deception.
"Brother."
He called out to him.
His voice dripped with a chilling, imperceptible amusement.
"Since I just came back from the dead, my memory might be a bit hazy."
"Why don't you be the one to explain this to everyone?"

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