Morning. Same day. Different hell.
Callahan mansion. Grand estate. Now echoing with chaos.
Phone lines rang. Nonstop. Ring. Ring. Ring. No end.
Reporters crowded the gates. Cameras. Microphones. Shouting.
News anchors' voices filled the halls. Through every TV. Every radio. Everywhere.
Servants whispered. Some crying. Reading hateful comments about Landon on their phones.
The Callahan name, once a symbol of power and perfection, was now poison. Every headline twisted the knife deeper.
Eleanor Callahan sat in her private study. Alone. Staring at the TV screen.
Lila's face filled the display. Smiling. Young. Beautiful. Dead.
Her hands trembled. Reached for her teacup. Fingers shaking. It slipped.
Shattered. Tea spilling across old letters. Photographs of her c
