“The wedding is off.”
Gasps echoed around us.
Daniel took a step forward. “Charlotte, wait—”
I picked up my bouquet—white roses imported at an obscene cost—and threw it directly at him.
“Don’t.”
Chaos erupted.
Guests whispered, shouted, pulled out phones.
Margaret tried to push through the crowd. “Move! Let me through!”
But people weren’t stepping aside anymore.
They were watching.
Listening.
Understanding.
I pulled out my phone, my hands steadier than they had any right to be.
I dialed a number I had kept for years—a federal investigator I had once worked with during a small corporate audit.
When he answered, I spoke clearly.
“I have evidence of long-term fraud, asset theft, and identity suppression. And I have witnesses.”
Behind me, Margaret’s voice rose in panic.
“You ungrateful girl! You have no idea what you’re doing!”
I turned back to her.
“No,” I said quietly. “You just forgot who I was.”
Sirens echoed faintly in the distance.
Closer.
Closer.
Margaret’s face twisted as realization dawned.
Her power—the carefully constructed illusion of it—was collapsing in real time.
By the time the police arrived, the crowd had already formed a barrier.
There was nowhere left for her to go.