Chapter 4

The big screen switched to the raw dashcam footage. The timestamp showed 11:26 p.m. the night before last.

A black Maybach sped out of Riverside Junction, the body of the car swaying once. Right after that, Mary appeared near the crosswalk on her e-bike.

A harsh screech of brakes tore through the footage, and Mary was sent flying. The camera jolted. Then the car stopped.

The driver's door cracked open, showing a pale calf. The blue star charm at the ankle swung once.

Then a hand braced against the car door came into view, dark red cat-eye nails, a crack on the ring finger of the right hand. Only half the face was visible, but it was already enough.

What made it worse was that the video also caught a tearful voice. "Did I kill someone?" It was Sophie's voice.

This time, James couldn't charge the stage again. He stood there like he'd been hit over the head.

Victoria's face went paper white as she turned to grab Sophie, but Sophie was faster. She shot to her feet, tears pouring down. "It wasn't me. The video is fake. They're setting me up on purpose."

Alex walked to the front of the stage and handed both the original memory card and the copy verification report to the traffic officers. "This is the original card from the truck's dashcam.

"The Grant family offered about 700 thousand dollars for it last night. I didn't sell.I'm here today to ask one thing. Why does the person who hit my mom still get to sit here and play innocent?"

The moment he finished speaking, the livestream comments and the shutters at the scene both exploded. Sophie tried to back away, but the two traffic officers stopped her. "Miss Grant, please cooperate with the investigation."

"Mom." she cried, finally truly panicking. "Say something for me, Mom." Victoria's lips trembled, but no words came out.

I stood under the lights and watched Victoria reach for Sophie, her own hands shaking as hard. James didn't step forward again either. They weren't afraid because someone had been hit. They were afraid because I'd ripped their cover away in front of everyone.

The event fell apart fast. The brand reps left without even saying goodbye, while the media surged in tighter. The Grant family's bodyguards were holding people back and clearing a path for Richard.

Before Sophie was taken away for further questioning, she kept looking back at me like I was the one who had dragged her down from the clouds.

By the time I got back to the Grant house, it was fully dark outside. The moment I stepped through the door, a teacup flew past my arm and smashed against the entry cabinet.

Richard stood in the middle of the living room, livid. I lowered my eyes to my cuff. A shard of porcelain had sliced a small cut there, and blood was slowly seeping out.

"What else?" I looked up at him. "Actually go to prison for Sophie?"

"Do you have any idea how much company value vanished today?" He asked.

"I do." I set down my bag. "I also know there are two metal plates in Mary Taylor's leg, she has a concussion, and she still can't get out of bed." Richard choked on his words for a second, and his face looked even uglier.

James stood behind him, his voice tight. "Did you have to blow this up like that?"

"I didn't blow anything up." I looked at him. "Sophie was the one who hit someone. You were the ones who wanted me to take the blame. If we're breaking it down, all I did was refuse to follow the script you wrote for me."

Victoria sat on the sofa. In a few hours, she seemed to have aged years, but the coldness in her eyes hadn't faded at all. "You think you've won by doing this?"

"No idea whether I won or not," I said. "But Sophie didn't get to hide behind me again today, so that's nice."

"Emily." she said.

Don't call me that. I cut her off. "The moment you shoved that confession statement in front of me, you lost the right to say my name."

James stepped forward. "Sophie's in terrible shape right now. Do you even know she..."

"So if she's in bad shape, someone else gets to go to prison for her?" I asked.

"She has depression." He said.

"Mary Taylor has broken bones." I looked at him. "Metal plates are already in her leg. Why don't you go into her hospital room and tell her the person who hit her can't handle questioning, so someone tougher has to go in instead?"

James's lips moved, but for the first time, no words came out. I couldn't be bothered to look at them anymore and turned toward the stairs.

The suitcase I'd rolled into the Grant house only yesterday was still sitting in the corner of the guest room with my clothes still unpacked. I opened the closet, which held nothing but hotel throwaway slippers and two untouched water bottles.

This room had never been meant for me to stay in for long. as I snapped the case shut after packing everything back up, the door was pushed open from outside.

Sophie stood in the doorway, her makeup so smeared she barely looked like herself anymore. "Emily."

"What's the problem?" I asked.

She held the doorframe like she could collapse any second. "I really didn't mean to hurt you. I was too scared then. Mom said... Mom said if you'd help me this once, the family would definitely make it up to you later."

I looked at her. "Of course you didn't mean to hurt me." Her eyes lit up at once, like she thought I'd finally softened.

I pulled out the suitcase handle and finished the rest of the sentence slowly. "You believed I was the one who should be hurt."

The color drained from her face all at once. I dragged the suitcase past her, then paused for a second as I went by. "Sophie Grant, whether you were scared the night you hit her, I don't know.

"But when I watched you cry on that stage today, I didn't feel sorry for you at all."

She stayed where she was and didn't come after me.