“What are you doing, Mom?” Monica snapped, her composure cracking. “This isn’t—”
Then, out of nowhere, Susan’s phone rang. She hesitated for a heartbeat, then pulled it from her pocket. “Excuse me,” she murmured, stepping away from the mic.
I watched as she answered, my stomach in knots. The guests were still murmuring, some exchanging glances, clearly intrigued by this sudden interruption. What could possibly be more shocking than what was happening right now?
“Hello?” Susan replied, her tone shifting rapidly from casual to serious. I couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but her expression said it all. There was something deeply unsettling about this call.
Section 4
Before I could even process what was happening, Susan turned back to the crowd, her eyes wide. “Everyone, I need to share something,” she said, her voice steady and commanding. “I’m not just an actress. I was a friend of his in college. I watched him struggle, and I know the truth.”
