Chapter 9 - The Ballroom's Judgment
The ballroom erupted. The silence shattered into a thousand jagged pieces of noise.
Guests who had been sipping champagne just moments ago were now shouting in shock. The whispers turned into loud, furious gossip. Reporters from high society magazines, who had been invited to cover a glamorous birthday, immediately pulled out their cell phones. Cameras flashed rapidly, capturing the blood on Amelia’s face, the tears on Isabella’s, and the furious, desperate sneer of Evelyn Hartley.
"This is insane," a prominent senator muttered to his wife, stepping back from the Hartley tables as if the family had suddenly caught a contagious disease.
Family friends, people who had kissed Evelyn’s cheeks for decades, exchanged horrified looks. Some of the most prestigious guests, unwilling to be caught in the crossfire of a massive scandal, quietly began walking toward the exits, abandoning their half-eaten caviar.
Isabella stood frozen in the center of the storm. The foundations of her entire existence were turning to dust beneath her designer heels. Her wealth, her status, her perfectly curated life—it was all built on the theft of another human being's destiny. Her own sister's destiny.
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She looked at Amelia. Amelia was still bleeding. Amelia, who had grown up with nothing, scrubbing floors and carrying trays, while Isabella wore diamonds and complained about the temperature of her private jet.
"I didn't know," Isabella whispered, the words barely making it past her lips. She stepped toward Amelia, dropping the documents onto the floor. "I swear to you... I didn't know."
