Ella
Paige’s smile cracked.
It was so subtle that if I hadn’t been staring straight at her, I might have missed it.
A microsecond of panic slipped through her carefully curated sweetness, like a fracture spidering across porcelain.
“Ella,” she said, turning toward me, voice light, almost amused, “this is a variety show, not a courtroom. You can’t just throw out accusations like that. It’s irresponsible.”
The word irresponsible echoed in the studio, bouncing off the walls and sinking into the crowd of onlookers, both physical and digital.
The live chat exploded again, but this time, the tone was different, less mocking, more feral. People loved a reversal. They loved blood even more.
Hailey’s eyes gleamed. She didn’t interrupt. Of course she didn’t. Chaos meant ratings, and rating
