Chapter 287

“Third, even if you were truly desperate enough to drum up drama by faking a plagiarism scandal, you’d have been better off just slapping your own name on the original song. At least that would be straightforward. Why put yourself through the trouble of creating some mangled, half-baked tune that’s neither here nor there?”
Emily Blair’s voice grew icier, her tone cutting: “Ms. Austin, forgive me for being blunt, but your excuses make absolutely no sense. The logic is flimsy at best, and frankly, it sounds ridiculous.”
“Listening to you, I can’t help but feel your so-called attempt to clear Vivian Martin’s name is just a front. The real story here is plagiarism. Everything else is just an excuse.”
By the time she finished, Isabella Austin’s face had gone noticeably pale. She seemed to shrink back, her eyes wide with anxiety and helplessness. Emily’s gaze tracked Isabella’s shaky retreat, her brow furrowing.
Isabella was already standing precariously close to the edge of the stage. A few more steps back and she’d bump into the metal rigging behind her or worse, fall right off the stage, which was a good three feet high.
Looking utterly fragile, Isabella bit her lip, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared… I couldn’t think straight Emily’s eyes narrowed as she watched Isabella inch backward, dangerously close to the rigging.
She couldn’t help herself; she reached out instinctively. “Wait-!”
From the audience, Arianna George’s voice rang out, stern and cutting through the tension. “What do you two think you’re doing? This is the finals, not a place for theatrics!”
At that moment, Isabella’s face drained of color. She stumbled back, her right shoulder slamming into the cold metal rig. Her left foot slipped off the edge, sending her teetering, her body suddenly off balance. A stifled cry escaped her lips as she began to topple toward the drop.
Only the rig, pressing into her shoulder, kept her from falling.
Emily’s pupils shrank in alarm. She dashed forward, hand outstretched toward Isabella.
Smack-
Emily stopped short, startled.
Isabella had slapped her hand away.
At the same instant-
A faint, metallic creaking reached Emily’s ears.
Her heart leapt. She looked up just in time to see the rigging above Isabella’s head
begin to wobble, bolts loosening, the whole structure tilting ominously.
If it fell, it would land squarely on Isabella.
No question—given the weight and height, it would be catastrophic.
Emily didn’t hesitate. She lunged straight for Isabella.
The creaking above grew louder, and suddenly the audience erupted. In her peripheral vision, Emily saw people rising from their seats, judges and onlookers alike shouting warnings.
“Get out of there! Run!”
“The rig’s coming down! Move!”
Panic tightening her chest, Emily pushed herself harder, reaching for Isabella’s wrist.
Her fingers closed around Isabella’s arm—she had her!
Relief flashed in Emily’s eyes. She yanked Isabella sideways, desperate to pull her out of harm’s way-
But then, out of nowhere, a shadow swept past. Emily blinked in confusion and looked up to see Andrew Lane—when had he gotten onstage?—his face ashen with worry. He grabbed Isabella’s other wrist, yanking her straight into his arms.
At that moment, Emily felt Isabella’s wrist struggle in her grasp. She looked up to see Isabella nestled safely in Andrew’s embrace, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she shot Emily a look-part smug, part enigmatic.
Stunned, Emily let go of Isabella’s arm.
In the next instant, the screams from the crowd reached a fever pitch as the rigging crashed down behind them.