<b>Chapter </b><b>572 </b>
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The massive screen lit up, ying a professionally edited video that documented Caitlin and Sebastian’s charitable work–every project, every donation, even certificates of the exact amounts and dates.
It showed shipments of supplies, timelines of deliveries to disaster zones, and behind–the–scenes prep work they had personally
overseen.
Toward the end, clips of grateful beneficiaries yed–people standing together, expressing heartfelt thanks, and children offering hand–drawn cards filled with color and love.
Every touching moment stitched together painted a picture of dedication and sincerity.
When the video ended, thunderous apuse filled the hall.
Something was wrong.
Zora sat frozen, eyes wide, shaking her head in disbelief.
This wasn’t right!
She had arranged everything in advance. The video that was supposed to y tonight was apromising one–Caitlin and Yates in a “too–close–forfort” moment that would destroy Caitlin’s image forever.
So why hadn’t it aired?
Panic rising in her chest, Zora hurriedly texted the contact who had promised to release the video. But her messages failed to go. through–she had been blocked.
Only then did it hit her.
She’d been scammed.
The person had taken her money and vanished, leaving her with nothing–worse than nothing. She’d missed her golden opportunity.
On stage, Caitlin and Sebastian were all smiles, holding their award and delivering a heartfelt, modest speech about using their privilege to help others and encouraging more people to join them.
Zora’s insides twisted.
They had won again.
And Caitlin, standing tall with yet another trophy, was even more untouchable than before.
As the couple returned to their seats, Caitlin’s gaze flicked to Zora for the briefest of moments–a nce that pierced like a de before drifting away.
Zora’s chest heaved. She couldn’t read the full meaning behind Caitlin’s look, but she assumed it was smugness.
Fine. <i>You </i>win this time, Caitlin.
But that doesn’t mean it’s over.
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The ceremony continued.
Another five recipients were called onstage, and once all 25 awards were given out, the host stepped forward with a surprise.
“In addition to our 25 official recipients tonight, we’re proud to announce one final honoree–our 26th awardee. Please wee… Miss Zora Harris of XEG!”
Apuse rang out again, and heads turned to Zora.
Stunned, she blinked. What?
She’d actually been selected?
For a moment, joy overtook suspicion. Maybe her mother’s earlier efforts had paid off after all.
“Zora, your turn,” Ximena whispered, nudging her.
With a radiant smile, Zora stood and made her way to the stage, epting the microphone with practiced ease.
“I’m deeply honored by this recognition,” she began, voice steady. “At XEG, we believe in giving back. Our contributions are modest, bute from the heart. Thank you for this encouragement.”
The host smiled back. “Thank you, Miss Harris. Now, let’s take a look at your journey in phnthropy.”
Zora turned, prepared to see more footage of her “public image” at work.
The screen began by showing the XEG corporate building, a narration detailing thepany’s annual output andmunity outreach.
Clips followed–Zora visiting remote viges, handing out supplies, giving speeches, and smiling in photos with children.
But then… things changed.
The footage cut to raw, unedited clips.
Zoraining about the poor vige conditions, wrinkling her nose as she inspected local housing.
A moment showed her posing with a child for a photo–smiling sweetly–only to immediately turn away, disgusted, wiping her hands and muttering, “Get me some Evian. I need to disinfect.”
She washed her hands with imported Evian water–then proceeded to clean her phone, arms, and face with it, muttering about “airborne diseases.”
Gasps echoed across the room.
From heartfelt humanitarian to pretentious diva… the fall was brutal.
The same child she’d posed with so small and trusting–now felt like a tragic prop in a PR stunt.
The audience began to murmur, confused and ufortable.
Ximena looked horrified. Her hands clenched tightly in herp.
She had worked tirelessly to help her daughter repair her reputation… and now it was crumbling again–this time by Zora’s own
hand.
On stage, the host struggled to stayposed. “Miss Harris… the video we just saw–was that all real? Were your charity efforts staged?”
Zora panicked. “No! No–it’s not what it looks like! I didn’t mean it like that!”
But the video didn’t lie.
Caitlin watched from her seat, calm and expressionless.
Now, Zora would learn what it meant to live a double life–and suffer the consequences.
More clips yed.
Interviews.
Some were with staff who had apanied Zora on her charity visits.
“Zora? She was… exhausting,” said one woman. “Overly dramatic, alwaysining. Acted like the world owed her something.”
“She used up half the supplies we brought–just to bathe,<i>” </i>another added. “She washed with Evian water and demanded steak for breakfast. In a vige that barely has rice.”
The crowd was stunned. The whispers grew louder.
Zora sat trembling, her world spinning. Her carefully crafted image… was disintegrating.
And then came the final blow.
A new video clip began.
It was Abel–seated in a visitation room in prison.
“I’ve known Zora for years,” he said casually. “I came back to the States at her invitation. We had… a friends–with–benefits arrangement.”
The audience gasped.
“She wanted me to seduce Caitlin. Said she wanted to ruin her rtionship with Sebastian. I tried–but Caitlin’s bond with Sebastian was too solid,”
The screen shed to another shot–Abel looking directly into the camera.
“I did manage to record a clip–Caitlin joking with some of Sebastian’s friends. Zora took it, edited it, and told me she was going to release it during the awards show to destroy her publicly.”
Zora’s mouth dropped open. Her lips moved, but no sound came.
“No. No. He’s lying. That’s not true–he’s framing me! I didn’t-!”
But the crowd was <i>no </i>longer listening.
They were watching, judging, whispering.
15:19 Tue, 2 Sept WOJ
Everyone now saw her for who she truly was.
And it wasn’t over yet.
Because Abel still had more to say.