Chapter 13 - The Raw Footage
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Elodie sat quietly at my kitchen island while I plugged the drive into my laptop and opened the video file.
The video quality was incredibly sharp, the audio much clearer than I expected from a large ballroom. The camera had been placed temporarily on a stand near the floral arrangements while the photographer was across the room adjusting his lighting equipment.
Genevieve and Bianca entered the frame, laughing together like old friends.
Bianca held my cream name card between two fingers, waving it slightly. “Do you honestly think she’ll cry?”
Genevieve smiled a cold, calculating smile. “If she cries, we simply call her unstable. If she screams, we call her abusive. If she leaves, we call her guilty. Literally any outcome works in our favor.”
Bianca smoothly slid her own name card into my designated seat next to Adrian. “And what if she just stays?”
“Then she finally learns her place.”
I hit pause on the video.
Elodie covered her face with both hands, sobbing quietly. “I am so incredibly sorry.”
I looked at her for a long moment, processing the sheer malice on the screen. “Did Adrian know they were going to do this?”
She nodded slowly without lifting her head from her hands. “He told Mom it might be pushing you too far.”
“He actually objected?” I asked, surprised.
“He said it could backfire on the negotiations.”
Not because it was cruel. Not because it was wrong. But because it could backfire.
I saved the video file, copied it twice to secure locations, and immediately sent one copy directly to Marisol.
Then, I looked at Elodie again. “Why are you helping me now, Elodie? Why risk angering your mother?”
She dropped her hands, looking at me with red, tear-filled eyes. “Because yesterday was supposed to be my wedding day, and all I could think about while my mother publicly humiliated you was that one day, she might teach my new husband to do the exact same thing to me. Or worse, teach me to just accept it. And I don’t want to become her.”
May you like
That was the very first answer from any Arden that actually sounded honest.
I did not hug her. Not yet. But I poured her a cup of hot tea and let her sit in my kitchen until midnight, patiently listening while she told me terrible things she had never dared to say aloud.
