Eleanore POV:
The room fell silent, a breathless pause hanging in the air. Josie, her face having gone from tearful to chalk-white, stared at me, a flicker of panic in her eyes. My parents and Colbert looked confused, then annoyed.
With a strength I didn't know I possessed, I ripped the small recording device from its hidden pouch. My movements were jerky, my body aching, but my resolve was absolute. "You want the truth?" I cried, my voice hoarse, but clear. "Here it is!"
I pressed play, aiming the tiny speaker towards the crowd. The sound, initially faint, soon filled the vast ballroom, amplified by the stunned silence.
"No one cares about you, Eleanore. Not really. Not like they care about me." Josie' s sweet, venomous whisper.
Then the sickening smack of her hand against her own face.
"Eleanore! How could you?! You hit me! You pushed me!" Her theatrical scream.
The recording continued, capturing her malicious taunts, her cold glee at my suffering, her calculated manipulation. Every vile word, every feigned sob, every poisonous insinuation-it was all there, laid bare for everyone to hear.
The crowd, initially quiet, erupted in gasps, then murmurs of outrage. Faces morphed from suspicion to disgust. Josie, standing frozen, looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"That's a lie!" she shrieked, finding her voice. "She recorded me out of context! She's always trying to twist things!"
"Out of context?" I retorted, my voice cutting through hers. "Did I record you pushing my dog into traffic, blaming me for its death? Did I record you demanding my kidney, then flaunting your recovery while I still bled internally? Did I record you plotting to ruin me last week, leading to my fall down the stairs?" My voice cracked, but my gaze was unwavering. "No. But I recorded this. Because I knew you would lie."
I pulled out my phone and called the police, my fingers surprisingly steady. "I'd like to report a deliberate act of defamation and assault," I stated clearly, giving my current location.
Josie, now genuinely sobbing, clutched my father's arm. "Daddy, please! I didn't mean it! I was just upset! It was a joke! Eleanore, please! Don't do this!"
My father, his face a mixture of horror and desperation, grabbed my arm. "Eleanore! Stop this! You're making a scene! You're ruining everything! This is all a misunderstanding! Josie didn't mean it!" My mother, her face pale, tried to snatch my phone. "Don't listen to her, officers! It's just a family squabble!"
Colbert, for once, looked utterly stunned. Addison stood frozen, his eyes wide, a flicker of genuine shock on his face.
"Misunderstanding?" I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Is that what you call years of systematic emotional abuse, blatant favoritism, and now, physical harm? You wanted me silenced. You wanted me out of the way so your precious Josie could take my place. And now that she's exposed for the manipulative monster she is, you still defend her?" I looked at my father, my voice flat. "You wanted Josie to marry Kayson Knight, to be your scapegoat. Well, guess what? I'm marrying Kayson Knight. And unlike Josie, I will not be your pawn."
My father's face turned purple. "You ungrateful brat! We did everything for you! You were always so difficult!"
My mother, pulling Josie close, hissed at me, "How dare you! You're a disgrace! You're just trying to hurt Josie, to steal her moment!"
"Her moment?" I scoffed. "She stole my entire life. This isn't her moment. This is your reckoning."
My parents, their faces a mask of furious indignation, tried to hurry Josie away, away from the disgusted murmurs of the crowd. "We're leaving!" my father thundered. "This party is over! Officers, there's no crime here, just a hysterical girl!"
They left me there, bruised and bleeding, but no longer broken. The police arrived shortly after. I gave my statement, my voice calm, meticulously detailing Josie's manipulations, the financial exploitation, the physical abuse. Each word was a nail in the coffin of my past.
Back in my room, the silence was no longer heavy with despair, but with anticipation. I was leaving. For good. I finished packing the last few items I truly cared about – a worn copy of my favorite book, a small, faded drawing from childhood, a scarf my grandmother had knitted. The mansion, once my home, now felt like a cage I was finally escaping. I yearned for the anonymity of the city, the promise of a new life, however uncertain.
I heard the commotion outside – my parents and Josie, reunited, their voices muffled by the thick walls. I heard my mother console Josie, heard my father promise something grand. I remembered the laughter, the shared secrets, the warmth of my family' s embrace. A phantom limb of grief twisted in my chest, but I quickly suppressed it. That Eleanore was gone. She was dead.
I was due to meet a friend before my flight. I stepped out of the mansion, into the cool night air, the police cars still flashing their blue and red lights in the distance. The streetlights blurred as I walked towards the gate.
A screech of tires. A blinding flash of headlights. I froze. Too late.
Impact. A searing pain ripped through my body, sending me flying. I landed hard on the cold pavement, the world tilting violently. My head cracked against the concrete, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I tasted blood. Everything went dark.
Through the haze, I saw a figure kneeling beside me. Josie. Her face, illuminated by the harsh streetlights, was devoid of concern, replaced by a chilling satisfaction. "Oh, Eleanore," she whispered, her voice sickeningly sweet. "What a clumsy girl. Don't worry, I'll make sure they know how much you loved them, to the very end." Her smile widened. "Don't worry, I'll tell them it was an accident. And I'll be so, so brave for them." She paused, then stood, her shadow looming over me. "I'm going to go get help now. Just... taking my time. You know. For dramatic effect."
The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. "Don't worry, Eleanore," Josie's voice, sickly sweet, whispered as darkness encroached. "I'll make sure they know how much you loved them, to the very end."