Sebastian’s final word—*verdict*—hung in the air, absolute and irrevocable. It was no longer a critique; it was a sentencing.
Julian stood paralyzed, his face a ghastly shade of white. The confident maestro of moments ago was gone, replaced by a hollow-eyed man staring into the abyss of his own fraudulence. He opened his mouth, a sputtering, desperate sound escaping. “That’s… that’s a lie. A setup! She’s colluded with him, can’t you see?”
His accusation was so weak, so pathetic, that it was met not with outrage, but with a wave of pitying silence.
I ignored him. My gaze went to Antoine, who stood near the host stand, his expression one of grim satisfaction. "Antoine," I said, my voice steady and clear. "If you would be so kind. The screen we discussed."
Antoine nodded once. With a remo
