Chapter 6 - Lila's DescentThe party had dissolved into an active crime scene, but the live streams were still running. Several high-profile influencers in the back rows were broadcasting the entire event to millions of viewers worldwide. The comments were moving too fast to read—a torrent of shock, disgust, and viral outrage.
Lila scrambled to her feet, her hands shaking as she pulled her phone from the small clutch bag left on the presenter's table. She opened her social media app, her eyes darting across the screen as her follower count began to drop in real-time—thousands of accounts vanishing every second.
"This isn't fair!" Lila shrieked, her voice losing all its cultivated sweetness, turning into the raw whine of a spoiled child who had lost her favorite toy. "You planned this! You sat in that room for ten years playing the victim, just waiting for the perfect moment to destroy me!"
"I didn't play the victim, Lila," Nora said, her voice calm as she stepped off the presentation platform, her bare feet silent on the stone. "I was the victim. You were the one playing a role. You wore the clothes I should have worn, you took the credit for the recovery formulas that Grandmother developed for my skin grafts, and you smiled for the cameras while I was undergoing my seventh reconstructive surgery alone in a clinic in Munich."
Lila lunged forward, her manicured nails clawing toward Nora’s face, but one of the campus security guards caught her wrists, pulling her back.
"Let go of me!" Lila screamed, twisting in the guard's grip. "Mother, do something! Father!"
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But Richard Vance was already being led away in handcuffs by Inspector Thomas, his head bowed, his expensive linen jacket wrinkled. Helen followed closely behind, weeping hysterically as a female officer guided her toward the waiting police cruisers at the end of the long driveway.
The guests began to filter out, their faces pale, leaving behind half-eaten catering trays, spilled champagne, and the bright, ironic glow of the EIGHTEEN AT LAST banner.
