SaunCorp called another press conference to drag me through the mud.
Why do rich people love turning their messes into public spectacles?
Fiona stood on stage, crying her crocodile tears, playing the helpless victim.

And then, bam!
Clara kicked the doors wide open.
Suddenly, all eyes were on her.
Nobody knew where she got that megaphone, but it didn't matter.
"You bitch!" she screamed, her voice booming through the hall.
Before security could stop her, she was on stage.

She grabbed Fiona by the hair, slammed her head onto the table with a sickening crack, then yanked her back up and started slapping her—hard and fast. Left, right, repeat.
"Lying snake! Keep playing the victim! You won't stop until Maya's dead, huh? Fine—let's both go down!"
The chaos finally ended when the bodyguards dragged Clara away.
Fiona lay crumpled on the floor, like a rag doll someone had tossed aside. Spencer was already crouching over her, trying to shield her, but her face was so swollen she was almost unrecognizable.

"You lunatic! What the hell are you doing?" Spencer roared at Clara, his voice raw with rage, like he could kill her right then and there.
Clara didn't flinch.
"You moron," she spat. "Blind your whole damn life! The kidney donor? That was Maya! When you were kidnapped, she was the one assaulted just so you could eat! When are you gonna wake the hell up?"
"That's impossible," Spencer shot back, his voice certain.
Clara laughed bitterly. "Then check my bag. All her medical records are in there. Read it for yourself."
For the first time, Fiona looked shaken. She clung to Spencer's sleeve, pleading with him over and over to leave.
Maybe it was Clara's unwavering glare. Or maybe it was Fiona acting so desperate that made something click for Spencer.
"Stay here," he said softly, prying Fiona's hands off him. Then he walked over to Clara's bag, snatched it off the floor, and started pulling out papers.
At first, his expression was blank. Then confusion. Then disbelief. By the time he hit the last page, his face twisted in agony.
He collapsed to his knees, shaking so hard the papers scattered around him. "This isn't real. This can't be real."
Fiona, frantic now, ignored her own injuries and scrambled to embrace him. "It's fake! Maya faked all of it to mess with you! Don't believe her, Spencer! Don't believe any of it!"
And for the first time, Spencer shoved her away.
His voice shook with fury. "How could anyone fake this? Tell me, Fiona—how could they fake this?!"
The bodyguards let Clara go, but she just smiled. "Don't get too comfortable. We both know these things can be faked. Isn't Doctor Bever practically a pro at it, thanks to Fiona's family?"
Doctor Bever didn't flinch, slipping in a subtle warning to Clara. "These accusations are pure slander. Combined with the assault on Miss Wore, we're well within our rights to press charges."
Clara didn't budge. "Perfect. Call the cops! Let's have them dig into everything. You press charges, I press charges. And this time? I'm fine going down in flames if it means taking all of you with me."
Then, Clara started telling them a story.
It was my story.