The Upfall.

Fraud.

"Please state your name for the record." The prosecutor said as he walked towards his table. Maryanne's gaze was fixed on the gloss of the witness stand's wooden enclosure, afraid to lift an inch higher lest she meets Cassandra's. She didn't even notice the cold smirk the prosecutor threw at her.

"My name is Cassandra Blake." The witness answered. Her voice so familiarly curt that it sent a brief shudder through Maryanne's spine. At his table, the prosecutor shuffled through some pages then yanked one out and lifted it up to the bright light falling in through the windows.

"Miss Blake, do you know the defendant?" He looked down intently at the page in his hand.

"Yes."

"What is your relationship with her."

"I was once Miss O'Neill's mentor."

"And when was this?"

"It was maybe a year ago till about two months ago." Her voice flew sharply into the court and loomed over Maryanne's head.

She remembered the first time she'd heard it. When it was still soft and beautiful. Praise worthy. She couldn't believe that she was sat across from her role model, listening in person to the voice she'd only heard on the 9pm news.

Lucille, her manager, had introduced her to Cassandra, and after that sit-down, her role model became her mentor.

For the first time since she had left Bowington, her home town, for the rich abundance of opportunity in Porthaven, things looked up. She was connected to the top dog and that, she was certain guaranteed her some steps up the impossible ladder Lucille had always thrown in her face.

A whole year of more field work than she could bear, had her rethinking her career, but soon after Cassandra took her under her wing, she found herself in a studio, finally, behind a small desk, in a high chair looking into two cameras. A small step up the ladder and looking to take more. All she could wish for.

"...but why Miss O'Neill?" The sharp sounding of her name yanked her back into the court room.

"Well I had seen some of her work and she had a ton of promise. So being in the position I was, I decided to help her out." Cassandra explained and that was true. She would have Maryanne around her colleagues, associates and in those big rooms she otherwise could never find her way into.

Word of Maryanne began to spread. People started taking notice of her proficiency in the news studio and soon, she was dubbed the next Cassandra Blake. It was an honor, initially. But got old fast. Maryanne felt she had outgrown Cassandra's wing.

She had complained to Lucille, and the response she got was that the tag served a purpose which at the right time would be fulfilled. So she waited patiently, till one day, she found Cassandra's missed call.

She only called once and when she did, Maryanne would meet her at the Porthaven's biggest hotel, The Oasis.

She ran out of the elevator into the 10th floor that afternoon, bolting for room 109. Her mentor had promised to introduce her to one of her business associates. She didn't know what business it was but she didn't try to.

The knob twisted softly and clicked, echoing through the empty hallway. There was muffled dialogue through the door. Perhaps that was the associate.

She pushed the door in and peeked through the ajar door. Both people in the room stopped and turned towards the blonde head poking into the room.

"Oh! Is this a bad time?" She hesitated.

"No, just give me a moment." Cassandra asked. But Maryanne sensed the tremble in her voice. "Just wait outside." Her eyes shot to the eerie looking man standing around the small living room. She shuddered at the bulge under his right eye that made him look like he was winking at her, then she began to withdraw her head back through the door, when the man croaked.

"Wait is this that gifted protege you've been going on about?" He asked. Maryanne felt the urge to wait since he was talking about her.

"Ann! Wait outside." Cassandra commanded, her voice sharpening slightly. Instinctively, she scrolled down her phone and set up a recording. Something Cassandra herself had taught her to do.

"Well we got close, I mean, she knew my family, I knew her's. At that time, I would say very close." Cassandra answered. Maryanne unaware what the question was but registering the softness her voice had flown into. The disappointment in it. Her eyes drifting slowly downwards to the floor then looking back up to Maryanne.

It was the same look she had at the hotel that day.

"Now I trust that as her mentor, you have shown her your ways, no?" The man asked, croaking steadily as if a bubble of snort was dancing around his throat. "Ann, is it?" He pointed at her walking around the table in the middle of the room. "You see success, especially in this field of yours isn't always reached through the high road. Sometimes you have to go low. Your mentor understands."

"Edgar, come on. You don't need to tell her..." she trembled.

"Oh but I do, Miss Blake." He interrupted silencing Cassandra instantly. "I mean every minute of your reluctance costs me a fortune. So I might as well get myself a new inside man, or woman for that matter."

"Yes, but I told you..."

"I know what you said. But there isn't time." His voice rose slightly out of the craok. "Miss Blake you know the benefits of our arrangement and their lack thereof if you fail to meet our expectations." He said and walked to the door with a prissy step. "I suggest you get it done by the days end or else." He pulled the door open then slammed it shut behind him.

Cassandra fell back onto the couch. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her palms.

"Who was that?" Maryanne asked sitting slowly beside the sobbing mentor. "And what is he talking about?"

Her hands fell from her face, dragging down a trail of eyeshadow down to her cheeks. She looked at her mentee. Maryanne sensed shame and hesitance in her mentors eyes, then after a short heavy defeated sigh she stood up continuing to wipe the tears off.

"That is Edgar Crowe."

"Wait, as in Crowe Enterprises."

"Yeah, and I've been doing him some favours."

"What kind?" Maryanne's eyebrows furrowed.

"He pays me to ensure there is a feature of Crowe enterprises regularly on the 9pm news." She said, her voice slowing and fading reluctantly.

Maryanne tilted her head to the sideways shooting a vicious side eye towards her mentor, stunned.

"And also to go easy on interviews concerning his company."

It did seem odd, how positive Crowe's reviews were. She stood up and walked to the door, her knuckles against her chin, looking down at the brown carpet.

A question popped in her mind. How many other times had she done that heinous act of betraying the viewers with seasoned news.

Why? She thought, but the question slipped right through her teeth.

"Why?" She asked.

"My daughter..." She hesitated. "She's...I shouldn't."

"She's what?" Maryanne asked teetering between curiosity and sympathy. She felt Cassandra's shoulder tremble under her soft hand.

"She's in Ashford..." She answered finally after a short sigh.

What, the school?" Maryanne jumped in.

"He's the one who got her a scholarship and if I don't get him a feature on tonight's news, he'll pull her out."

Speechless, Maryanne squeezed her lips tightly between her lips. Her mentor was in a difficult situation and she couldn't help it. But then another reason was there. Her mentor and role model was a fraud. That was what Edgar Crowe meant. It didn't take her long to figure that out.

"But don't worry," Cassandra said, wiping her tears. "I'll take care of it this evening." Cassandra declared. "You just go home. We'll talk tomorrow."

Maryanne, wasted not a minute in the that hotel. She was out fast, driving home. Then as she stared falteringly at the road, she reached into her pocket to check the time on her phone.

She yanked it out, balancing her gaze between the road and the phone's small screen. And when she unlocked it

she realized something. The recording she had set was still going and counting. It had caught both the man's voice and even Cassandra's confession.

Three words streaked and echoed inside her skull.

(Purpose and Right time)

Her opportunity to climb up the ladder had just presented itself clearly but sadly with Cassandra as the step.

The low road was calling. She had a full confession sitting pretty in her phone. All she had to do was grab her own mentor and toss her under the bus.