Stella’s blood pressure shot straight to the roof the moment she glanced at the video.
She demanded, “Where did this video come from?”
“It looks like it leaked from some rich kids’ group chat. But now it’s all over the internet.”
Without another word, Stella grabbed her phone and called Cedric Clarke.
Cedric picked up almost immediately, beating her to the punch: “You saw the video too, didn’t you?”
Stella paused. “You saw it as well?”
“Yeah. I’m already in the parking garage. Just come down—I’m by Section C.”
“Got it!”
She hung up and made a beeline for the underground garage.
***
Meanwhile, in a quiet hospital room, Julia slowly opened her eyes.
“Gee…”
Gina rushed to her side. “I’m right here. How are you feeling? Want some water?”
“I want to go home.”
Gina frowned. “You’re still sick, Julia. You can’t just leave now.”
“The holidays are four days away. I want to spend New Year’s at home.”
“At least wait until Ms. Kensington gets here, okay? We’ll talk it over together.”
“If I go home, she’ll come home too.”
Julia pushed herself upright, meeting Gina’s worried gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Gee, all of you have been hiding things from me. But I have cancer. If Dr. Lockwood hadn’t slipped up this morning, I’d still have no idea.”
Gina froze, stunned into silence.
After a moment, she finally stammered, “You… you know?”
“You shouldn’t have kept it from me. I’m not that fragile. If I’m sick, I’ll get treated. No need to act like it’s the end of the world.”
“Is that really how you feel?” Gina studied Julia’s face, searching for cracks.
Mack, caught off guard, stumbled backward—the framed portrait he was holding slipped from his hands and crashed to the ground.
Crack!
The glass over the photo shattered.
“Oh, dear Lord!” Madeline shrieked, banging her cane against the ground in distress. “This is sacrilege! Utterly disgraceful! You ungrateful girl! Mack, pick up your father’s portrait—now!”
Snapped out of his daze, Mack scrambled to retrieve Malcolm’s broken photo.
Madeline was deeply superstitious. A smashed memorial photo was a terrible omen.
“Hurry, bring it here!” Madeline barked.
Mack hurried up the steps, handing the photo to Madeline.
She stroked her late son’s picture with trembling hands, tears streaming down her face. “The priest was right. This girl is a curse on our family! Mack, as long as that wretched girl breathes, the Kensingtons will never know peace!”
Mack’s brow furrowed. “Grandma, are you saying—”
Madeline’s eyes blazed as she glared at Briony, who was struggling to her feet, blood still dripping down her forehead. “Let the Rottweiler out of the back yard.”
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