Alice Gallagher stared up at Lyra, her eyes wide with uncertainty. The ballroom had fallen completely silent, every guest holding their breath as they awaited the confrontation. Orla stood frozen behind Jasper, her face drained of color as she recognized Alice.
"Rebecca," Damian urged, squeezing his sister's hand. "Point out the woman who tormented you. Show everyone who she really is."
Alice's gaze drifted across the tense faces surrounding her. Her trembling fingers clutched the armrests of her wheelchair as she struggled to find her voice.
"I—" she began softly, then cleared her throat. "My name is Alice. Not Rebecca. You always call me Rebecca when you're upset."
Damian frowned. "Alice, this isn't the time. Please focus."
Alice straightened in her wheelchair. For the first time, a flash of determination crossed her delicate features. She lifted her arm and pointed directly at Lyra.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Orla's smile began to return, smug and victorious.
