Celyne POV
The lights were too bright.
Blinding.
Unforgiving.
They burned into my skin, into my eyes, into my thoughts—like they were trying to strip me bare in front of everyone.
I sat still, my hands resting on my lap, fingers tightly intertwined to hide the tremor running through them. But even then, I wasn’t sure anyone could see past the cameras, the flashes, the expectations.
Or maybe they could.
Maybe that was the point.
To see me break.
The room was packed.
Voices murmured endlessly, low and restless, like a storm waiting to rise. Cameras were already flashing—rapid, relentless—capturing every breath, every blink, every shift of my expression like I was something to be studied… judged… dissected.
This wasn’t a press conference.
This was a trial.
And I was the one on di
