Chapter 238

“I’m here to set the record straight,” Cailin said, turning back to the cameras. “Charla claims I pushed her off the Ferris wheel. She claims I’m violent.”

“We have witnesses!” Gregg shouted from the side. “My staff saw everything!”

“Your staff is on your payroll,” Cailin replied. She glanced at Ashley.

Ashley opened the laptop and connected it to the AV system — one Aron had conveniently left unlocked.

“Preston’s lawyers will object to this!” Gregg shouted. “This is not a courtroom!”

“No,” Hilliard said from the front row. His voice cut cleanly through the noise. “It’s a press conference. You wanted the public to know the truth, Gregg. Let her speak.”

Charla looked at Hilliard, naked betrayal crossing her face. “Hilliard?”

“Go ahead, Cailin,” Hilliard said.

Cailin reached into her pocket and produced a small, sleek playback controller.

“You wanted evidence,” she said, looking directly at Charla. “You had a phone destroyed because you believed it was the only copy.”

Charla’s face went slack.

“But you forgot about the cloud,” Cailin said.

She raised the controller and aimed it at the massive digital donor screen behind them.

“Let’s watch a movie.”

Cailin’s thumb hovered over the button.

“Wait!” Charla shrieked.

The panic in her voice was real this time. She grabbed for the microphone, but it was bolted to the podium.

“She’s faking it!” Charla shouted at the reporters. “Whatever she shows you, it’s AI — it’s a deepfake! My father told me she has hacker friends!”

Cailin paused. She lowered the controller slightly.

“You’re so sure it’s fake?” she asked.

A hush fell over the lobby.

“Then let’s make a bet.”

“What?” Charla blinked.

“A wager,” Cailin said, her voice carrying effortlessly through the room. “Right here. In front of the world. If the evidence I show is fake — doctored in any way — I will kneel down right now. I will kiss your feet. And I will plead guilty to every charge.”

The reporters drew a collective breath. Cameras swung and tightened on Cailin’s face.

“But,” Cailin stepped closer to the wheelchair, “if it’s real — if it proves you’re a liar — then you kneel.”

Charla stammered.

“You kneel,” Cailin repeated, her voice hard as diamond, “and you admit to everyone in this room exactly what you are.”

Charla looked at Gregg. Gregg looked terrified. She looked at Hilliard. Hilliard was watching her with undisguised contempt.

She had no choice. If she refused, she looked guilty.

“Fine,” Charla snapped. “You’re bluffing. I take the bet. Prepare your knees.”

Cailin smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile.

“As you wish.”

She pressed the button.

The screen didn’t show the Ferris wheel. Not yet.

Instead, a grainy black-and-white video feed appeared. The timestamp placed it three days ago. The location tag read: Mount Sinai — East Wing Corridor.

It was the hallway outside Elia’s room.

In the footage, a woman in a hospital gown — Charla — was backing a small child into a corner. The child was Elia.

Something glinted in Charla’s hand. A fruit knife.

The audio crackled to life. Ashley had boosted the gain.