âJust let it go, man. Keep the peace,â one fan said, cautioning against ruffling Claraâs feathers any further.
But the fan didnât buy it. It wasnât her stirring the pot. This lunatic Clara had it out for Ivy from day one. It was clear from every passive-aggressive post that Clara had nothing but pure loathing for her sister Ivy since the day she was born.
How could anyone think that Clara would stop her venomous tirades just because a few fans piped down? They were just too naive.
After all Ivy had been through, youâd think her followers would have toughened up by now. But maybe it was Ivyâs kind-hearted nature that drew in these innocent souls. Even when it came to Clarà , they approached her with kindness, never once going on the offensive.
To Clara, Ivyâs fans were nothing more than a bunch of sycophants, mimicking their idolâs holier-than-
thou attitude, always playing the victim.
Ivy was at a loss as to how sheâd become the target yet again. She was too busy digging for evidence to pay any mind to the online chatter.
At 1 A.M., they were still wide-eyed and wired, combing through the surveillance footage of that fateful moment.
âDamn it!â He slammed his hand on the desk, âWhy the hell is there no camera in that one corner?â
He never thought heâd rue the lack of cameras in his mansion. In the past, he felt the security team had overdone it with the surveillance â being watched every second wasnât exactly comfortable.
But now, he cursed his past self for not installing just one more camera by the elevator. If only there was a camera there, they might have seen how Alyssa had taken that terrible fall down the stairs.
All they had was footage of Alyssa tumbling down, starting midway through her descent. It was impossible to tell what had happened before that.
Balfour replayed the clip over and over until Ivy snatched the mouse and hit pause. âStop it, please.
This isnât helping. Grandma wouldnât want to see you like this.â
The only message theyâd received from Dean was at midnight, saying she was still in critical condition.
Since then, neither of them had dared to ask for updates. If Alyssa had pulled through, theyâd have heard by now. But the silence was excruciating, and both Balfour and Ivy felt like they were being roasted alive by the uncertainty.
âItâs nothing compared to what Grandmaâs going through. That fall must have been agonizing. At her age, she wasnât built to handle that kind of trauma.â
Balfourâs words echoed Ivyâs deepest fears.
Normally, folks that age were wary of even a simple trip, let alone a fall down an entire flight of stairs.
Meanwhile, Mara, who was pretending to scrutinize the surveillance footage, was smug. She hoped Alyssa would just kick the bucket so she wouldnât be a threat anymore.
âBalfour, oh Balfour, youâll grieve, sure, but our future will be bright,â she thought to herself. âDonât worry. The pain will fade, and weâll be happy.â
She bitterly wished death upon Alyssa.