The police showed up quickly to get the details and took Eden to the station for more questions. Since Clara was involved, she had to go too.
Eden had been in the middle of a shopping spree when the cops approached her, and she found the whole situation incredibly humiliating. When she realized Clara was the one who called them, she lost it.
“Clara, you witch! How dare you call the police on me!”
Clara sat nearby, calm and collected. “I’m not negotiating. I want an apology.”
Eden’s face twisted with anger. “An apology? To you? Not happening!”
Clara's expression hardened, and she turned to the officer. “I’m not negotiating. She needs to apologize today.”
Eden pulled out a card, offering, “I’ll give you a hundred grand, but no apology.”
The officer looked between them, realizing neither was short on cash. Carefully, he said, “Ms. Eden, you were in the wrong. If Ms. Clara won’t accept money, you’ll have to apologize to leave.”
Eden felt her scalp prickling with frustration—it was the most embarrassed she’d ever been. If the Ferguson family found out, she’d be in serious trouble. With the household already tense, she didn’t want more drama. She glared at Clara with defiance.
“Clara, think carefully. If you don’t back down today, I’ll make your life hell.”
Clara found it funny; any façade of civility between them was long gone.
Simon, standing behind them, chimed in, “I called Dylan. Eden, stop this nonsense.”
Hearing Dylan’s name almost made Eden jump out of her seat. “Brother, Dylan’s busy! How could you disturb him?”
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