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At nine that night, Ethan showed up at my door carrying a bag of
fruit.
“I bought you some strawberries. Want some now?”
I tossed my phone onto the table in front of him, the screen displaying Amber’s latest post.
Amber: [I told him I wanted something sweet and tangy like cherries, but he bought strawberries instead. LOL.]
“So, whatever Amber doesn’t want gets handed down to me?”
Ethan frowned. “You don’t have to be like this…”
He walked over and slipped an arm around my waist, his tone softening. “Is this because it’s been too long since we’ve been… close? Are you upset about that?”
I shoved him away hard and gagged dramatically right in front of
him.
A storm darkened Ethan’s face. “That’s enough. Don’t act like this just because you think you can.”
“What respect have you ever given me?” I clutched my chest, tears falling uncontrollably. “Do you even know how many hateful calls I’ve gotten? How have I been blacklisted by every major
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Ethan used to tease me, tugging on my earlobe with a smile.
“You’re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?”
I never imagined Ethan would truly leave me one day.
When my parents died under a cloud of shame, accused of
crimes they didn’t commit, the world turned its back on me.
It was Ethan who pulled me out of the pit.
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He defied his family for me. I still remember him kneeling in the
rain for hours, begging his father.
He took me away from the place that had broken me and helped
me start fresh in a new city.
Even when I was at my lowest, Ethan never let go of me.
Now, after surviving those brutal days, I was faced with his
betrayal.
“Let’s get a divorce,” I said, closing my eyes. “At least let me leave
with some dignity.”
“Clara,” Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples as if exhausted. “You’ve been through worse before. Why are you being so
dramatic now?”
My eyes flew open wide as I stared at him in disbelief.
“What did you just say?”
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Ethan pressed his lips into a tight line, his expression turning cold.
“When your parents killed themselves, the whole country was
calling them murderers…”
“Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch.
and hurling it at him. “Get out!”
Ethan looked genuinely shocked by my outburst. He hesitated for
a moment and then stomped off in anger.
On his way out, he grabbed the bag of strawberries.
“You don’t want my charity? Fine. Let’s see how far your
stubbornness takes you.”
Barely ten minutes later, Amber posted again on Instagram.
Amber: [First night staying at his place. The décor is so tacky- typical clueless guy taste.]
The attached photo showed Ethan’s apartment upstairs. The “tacky” décor was something I had painstakingly designed
myself.
Ethan commented under her post. Ethan: [You’re right. It is tacky.
Let’s remodel.]
I rubbed my tired, aching eyes, my tears long since dried.
Houses could be redecorated. People could be replaced.
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To Ethan, I was nothing more than a toy he’d grown bored of.
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When another harassing call came through, I yanked out my SIM
card and replaced it with the one I’d used during an overseas tour.
There was a time when a world–famous ballet company had
offered me a position.
I turned it down because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving
Ethan.
With shaky hands, I dialed the number they’d given me. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Sterling?”
The line was silent. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I
would’ve thought the call had been disconnected.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? Had he seen the trending news?
I tightened my grip on the phone, my palm damp with sweat. “Mr. Sterling, please hear me out. I didn’t do the things they’re
accusing me of. I tried to post a clarification, but my accounts are all controlled. Every time I create a new one, the posts are deleted
within seconds. I-”
“Wait for me.”
A deep, unfamiliar male voice interrupted me. It sounded vaguely
familiar but nothing like the Jason Sterling I remembered.
I froze. “You’re not Jason Sterling?”
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“Wait for me.”
He repeated the words and then hung up abruptly.
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Confused, I stared at the phone. Moments later, a text came through. Unknown Number: [Taking off now. Gotta turn off my phone.]
Seconds later, another message buzzed in. Unknown Number:
[Wait for me to return. You’ll be alright.]
Though his words were cryptic, they at least carried a promise.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Over the next few days, I started packing and getting my
paperwork in order.
I didn’t have much–just a single suitcase.
Anything Ethan had bought me, I left behind.
Not because I was proud or still holding onto hope.
He cheated on me and left me shattered.
But back when my family was ruined, when I was hated by the public, when people demanded I pay for my parents‘ alleged sins,
it was Ethan who saved me.
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I don’t know how he convinced his father, but after that night of
kneeling in the rain, Ethan was disowned. At the same time, the
public’s hatred for me disappeared.
He gave me a new life.
He caught me when I was at my lowest and stayed by my side.
through the darkest days.
For that, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him.
I just wanted to part ways peacefully.
After three days of silence, Ethan returned.
“Have you calmed down and come to your senses?”
I nodded, my tone calm. “I have.”
He misunderstood my response, a smug smirk tugging at the
corner of his lips.
“Good. Clara, you need to remember your place. Be good, and I’ll keep taking care of you. But if you push your luck, I’ll make sure you have nothing.”
After his tirade, he seemed confused by my lack of reaction.
“Are you done?” I placed the divorce papers on the table. “If you
are, sign this.”
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Ethan’s eyes darkened as he stared at the papers. “You’ve known about Amber and me for a while. Why not just pretend nothing happened, like you used to? Stay as my wife. Isn’t that better? She
gets what she wants, and so do you. Clara, you shouldn’t be so
ungrateful.”
I gaped at him, stunned that those words had come out of his
mouth.
I still remembered back in high school, when Ethan’s father
cheated on his mother, and the house erupted into chaos.
His father had sneered, “Every man in my position has a mistress.
I’m not divorcing you, so stop making a fuss.”
Furious, Ethan had grabbed a baseball bat and smashed a vase near his father. Amid the shards of glass, he had said coldly, “A
man with no sense of responsibility doesn’t deserve to be my
father.”
Back then, I thought Ethan was the most incredible person I’d ever
met.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, the disdainful boy from years ago had morphed into a reflection of his father.
At thirty, Ethan wasn’t just his father’s mirror–he was everything
his fifteen–year–old self had vowed never to become.
I felt nothing but disgust.
“No way,” I said, sliding the divorce papers closer to him. “After
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Ethan stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the
papers between two fingers.
“You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t you think it’s time to settle. the debts you owe me?”
I nodded and pulled out a bank card. “There’s five million dollars
on this. It’s enough to cover everything you’ve spent on me.”
Ethan’s brows furrowed as he stared at the card. “Five million
dollars? You think that’s enough?”
“It is,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “I’ve kept records of every expense. The ledger is in the study if you want to check. I also
kept every luxury item and piece of jewelry you bought me-
they’ve either been returned or factored into the total. I owe you
nothing.”
Ethan was silent for so long I almost thought he wouldn’t agree.
Then he laughed softly.
“I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night, but
since you don’t need me, forget it.”
His gaze lingered on my face, likely searching for some hint of
regret.
But he found none.
My expression didn’t waver. “Since our marriage is a secret, feel
free to bring whoever you want.”
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Ethan pressed his lips into a thin line and tossed an invitation onto the table. “Your name’s on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll agree to the divorce.”
I had no idea what Ethan’s real intentions were.
But I had no choice but to agree.
When I finally slipped into the dress Ethan had sent me and
arrived at the gala, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had
underestimated just how cruel he could be.
This wasn’t some private event.
The red carpet was lined with reporters from every major media
outlet. Fans clutching flowers and banners screamed their favorite
celebrities‘ names from the sidelines.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice someone pointing at me until I
heard the shout. “Look! Isn’t that Bitch Clara?”
Ever since Ethan had forced me to apologize using my own account, I’d been branded with that humiliating title.
I’d seen the countless hateful comments online, but no amount of
vitriol on a screen compared to hearing it whispered, sneered, and jeered right next to me.
“How does she even have the nerve to show her face here?”
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“Look at her dress–Amber’s in white, so she wore white too?
Shameless.”
“Don’t even compare her to Amber. She doesn’t measure up, not
even close!”
“Exactly! Amber’s dress is next–season couture. Hers? Probably last year’s leftovers.”
The relentless mockery drilled into my ears. I turned on my heel, ready to leave, but someone grabbed my arm.
I looked up to see Ethan’s bodyguard, Marcus.
He smirked, his eyes glinting with malice.
“Ma’am, Mr. Ward insists you attend the event.”
He was Amber’s relative, and during that incident at the hospital, he had deliberately yanked my arm so hard it left bruises.
Ethan had seen it but only offered a perfunctory reprimand. And now, he’d sent Marcus to deal with me again.
The man who once cherished me had vanished completely.
Bitterness surged in my chest, but resistance was futile. I was half–dragged, half–pulled along by Marcus.
“Look at Clara’s limp–doesn’t she walk like a crippled donkey?”
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“Think she’s trying to crash the red carpet and got busted by
security?”
“Absolute trash!”
Before I could react, a sharp voice yelled, and suddenly a bottle of
juice came flying at me.
I tried to dodge but Marcus deliberately shifted, blocking my escape and even shoving me closer to the trajectory.
“Ah!” The bottle burst open, drenching me in sticky purple grape juice. My white dress was instantly stained and blotched.
“Ha! Doesn’t she look like she’s on her period?”
“Don’t you have any shame? Get lost already!”
“If I were you, I’d jump off a building. God, people this shameless are just indestructible.”
Amid the jeers and laughter, I struggled against Marcus‘ grip. “Let me go! I need to change!”
Marcus looked down at me with mock concern. “Sorry, but even if you were on your last breath, Mr. Ward said you’re going inside tonight. Mr. Ward also said if you want a divorce, you’ll have to make it through this evening first. Otherwise, don’t bother.”
I froze.
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Of course. I should’ve remembered. Ethan was the rising star of
Oceanhaven now.
What could someone like me a woman whose very identity had to remain hidden–possibly do to stand against him?
I forced a smile, hollow and resigned. “Let go. I’ll walk on my own.”
But Marcus wasn’t done humiliating me. Instead of letting go, he quickened his pace, dragging me along awkwardly.
I stumbled forward, drawing even more ridicule from the crowd.
By the time we reached Ethan, Marcus had returned to his usual obedient, unassuming demeanor.
Ethan’s cold gaze swept over me, lingering on my stained dress.
“What happened?”
I glared at him, my voice shaking with anger. “What happened? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”
Ethan frowned slightly, about to speak, but a delicate arm looped
around his from behind.
“Clara, I’m so sorry,” Amber cooed. “It must’ve been one of my
fans who threw the juice at you.”
Draped in a pristine white couture gown, Amber pressed herself closer to Ethan, looking perfectly innocent.
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“She probably got upset seeing you in a dress similar to mine..
Clara, you don’t mind, do you?”
Once, her provocations would’ve infuriated me.
But now, all I wanted was to leave.
“Ethan, you wanted me here. I showed up. You wanted to
humiliate me, and I took it. You’ve gotten what you wanted. Can I
go now?”
Though I phrased it as a question, I wasn’t waiting for his answer.
I turned and started walking away.
“Don’t leave yet.”
Someone blocked my path.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Clara Bennett, the famous dancer. Since you’re here, why not give us a performance before you go?”
I didn’t recognize the man, but it was obvious he was someone Ethan had arranged to mock me further.
“Move,” I said, my voice cold and firm.
“Aw, such a temper,” the man drawled, looking me up and down like I was an object for sale. “Still think you’re the rising star of the
ballet
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world? Haven’t you heard? You’ve been blacklisted.”
14/28
The words hit me like ice water. My breath caught as a chill ran through me. “Is that true?”
Ethan swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze detached and indifferent. “It’s the price you pay for your mistakes.”
I couldn’t stop myself from demanding, “What did I do? What was so unforgivable that you had to destroy my career? Tell me!”
Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression souring. “You
know exactly what you did.”
Amber let out a soft laugh. “Clara, I’m performing tonight. With
all the bad press you’ve been getting lately, why not dance too?
There are a lot of influential people here. Maybe someone will take
an interest.”
I stared at Amber until her smile faltered.
“Ethan,” she said, shrinking behind him, “Clara’s scaring me.”
Ethan patted her hand reassuringly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Clara, isn’t this what you wanted? A chance to network?
There are several entertainment executives here tonight. Take
advantage of it.”
I drew in a sharp breath, horrified by how unrecognizable Ethan
had become.
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been so desperate for funds that he almost missed out on a golden opportunity.
15/28
I’d secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to earn money quickly. When Ethan found out, he was furious. He’d rather sell his blood than let me perform in a place like that.
“You know how jealous I get,” he’d said, his voice low and possessive. “I’d lose my mind if other men looked at you like that.”
He had loved me so much back then. We’d spent nights in our tiny, damp apartment, sharing everything down to a single plum, savoring it together.
But now? Now he seemed perfectly fine with pushing me toward
other men.
My voice came out hoarse and broken. “Fine. If that’s what you
want.”
I pushed past the man blocking my path and made my way toward a director I’d once worked with.
“Wow, Clara’s still limping. You think she’s actually hurt?”
“Please. She’s faking it.”
Ethan’s disdainful voice blended seamlessly with the laughter and jeers around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation.
I reached the director, but before I could even greet him, he
biracolf and walked away.
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I froze, realizing there was no point in trying anymore.
But I couldn’t accept it.
I had always been known for my dedication, my low–key professionalism, and my spotless reputation in the dance world.
So many people had once begged to work with me. How could Ethan’s words alone erase all of that?
I limped around the room, lowering myself further with each person I approached.
But they all avoided me like the plague–or worse, joined Amber in mocking me.
It wasn’t until I was left utterly alone, standing in the center of the room, that the truth hit me like a slap in the face.
I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, a joke for everyone to laugh at.
And leading the charge was the man I once believed I could trust
with my life.
“Clara,” Ethan said, his face dark with displeasure. “Haven’t you. embarrassed yourself enough?”
Amber’s voice was soft and falsely sweet. “Ethan, Clara was my
mentor. Maybe we should just let this go?”
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He didn’t reply, but his tightly furrowed brow relaxed slightly.
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“Absolutely not!” someone shouted. “A dancer acting like this? She’s ruining Mr. Ward’s reputation!”
“Exactly. Even if Mr. Ward lets it slide, she needs to be taught a
lesson so she knows what lines not to cross.”
One of Ethan’s lackeys handed me a glass filled to the brim with strong liquor. “Drink this, and we’ll consider giving you another chance. What do you say, everyone?”
A chorus of agreement rose around me.
I turned to Ethan. “Is this your idea?”
Ethan stood three steps away, unmoving. I had no intention of closing the distance.
I knew he was waiting for me to cave.
Every argument we’d ever had ended with me surrendering first.
Not because he was right.
But because I couldn’t forget how he had pulled me out of the darkest time of my life. In his presence, I always felt like I owed him something–like I was permanently indebted to him. I tolerated his
misdirected
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anger because of that.
Even when he flirted openly with Amber or bought her an apartment to keep her close, I turned a blind eye for a while.
But not today.
“Tell me again,” I said, my voice steady. “Was making me drink your idea?”
Ethan’s expression hardened at my defiance. “Yes. It was.”
I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring into the liquor swirling
in the glass.
He knew I was allergic to alcohol, yet here he was, forcing me to
drink to protect Amber.
The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me hurt was gone, lost to
time.
Something inside me shattered.
Ten years. All of it. Over.
A single word came to mind, “irreversible.”
“Fine.”
I raised the glass and drank it in one go, catching the flicker of hesitation in Ethan’s eyes before he schooled his features.
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The fiery burn of the alcohol scorched my throat, making me cough so hard my face turned red.
“Good job! Let’s pour her another one!”
Someone reached for the bottle, but Ethan snapped, “That’s enough,” and they backed off.
He took a step toward me, but Amber looped her arm through his, holding him back.
“Ethan, I think Clara’s shown enough sincerity,” she said, her tone saccharine. “How about this? When I perform later, let her join me
on stage.”
Amber’s lips curved into a mockingly innocent smile.
“Of course, it might mean Clara would have to be my backup dancer. What do you think?“,
“That won’t be necessary,” I said coldly.
The alcohol churned in my stomach, the heat spreading across
my skin.
“This performance is live–streamed, isn’t it? Is humiliating me in front of the entire world what you really want? Or is it that you’re
so insecure about your own abilities that you need to pull these cheap tricks to make yourself feel superior?”
For the first time in years, I let myself speak without restraint,
letting
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the venom I’d bottled up pour out.
20/28
Amber tightened her grip on Ethan’s arm, her voice trembling with faux innocence. “Ethan, explain to Clara. She’s misunderstanding
me.”
Ethan’s expression darkened further, his tone dripping with disappointment.
“If you still want to dance, you’ll get on that stage tonight. Being Amber’s backup dancer is a privilege for someone like you.”
His words cut through the last thread holding me together, ripping apart whatever feelings I still had for him.
“Ethan Ward,” I said, my voice steady but laced with contempt, “what exactly am I to you? A toy? A source of entertainment? Or just a prop to help you and Amber flaunt your relationship? Whatever this is, I’m done playing.”
I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it at him.
Then, with everyone watching, I took the divorce papers from my bag and scattered them at his feet.
“If you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine–let’s make it official. Sign the damn papers, and we’ll be done. I wish you and Amber all the best. Just don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!”
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The papers fluttered to the floor. Someone nearby picked one
up, scrutinizing it. “Wow, these look pretty convincing. Mr. Ward, could these be real?”
Ethan’s tone was indifferent.
“Just a childish stunt.”
He genuinely thought I was bluffing.
He was so certain I wouldn’t leave him.
To him, every act of defiance, every tear I shed, was nothing more
than a petty tantrum.
Even now, his gaze carried a faint glimmer of mockery.
“I suggest you stop making a scene before it gets any worse,” he
said coolly.
Exhaustion washed over me–deep, bone–deep fatigue.
“A withered flower can never bloom again,” I thought. “People are
no different.”
IRE
I turned to leave.
The sound of Ethan’s wine glass shattering against the floor
echoed through the room.
“Think carefully,” he said, his voice sharp and cutting. “Once you
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out that door, who will want you? Who would even dare?”
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I didn’t know what my expression looked like, but the jeers around
me died down.
My vision blurred, and Ethan’s figure warped into a grotesque
shadow.
wwww
I felt my soul sinking again.
The last time, Ethan had caught me.
This time, he was the one pushing me into the abyss.
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.
“Oh, Ethan,” Amber cooed, picking up my glass. “This was Clara’s
drink, wasn’t it? Doesn’t smell like alcohol at all.”
The liquor had been poured right in front of Ethan. Amber’s lie was as flimsy as it was malicious.
But Ethan believed her anyway.
He stepped forward, his grip like iron as he seized my wrist. “You’ve disappointed me again. Apologize to Amber.”
His voice was cold and impatient, as if I were a child in need of
discipline.
The alcohol was already wreaking havoc on my body, my vision doubling as my immune system collapsed under the strain.
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“Leave here,” I thought, the word pounding through my head like
a drumbeat.
But Ethan didn’t let go.
Pain shot up my arm as his grip tightened.
I cried out, but he didn’t loosen his hold.
“You think I’ll fall for your tricks again?” His voice was low and
biting.
“You’re getting on that stage tonight, no matter what.”
Amber giggled. “How about I take Clara to change into something more suitable?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ethan said, his words stabbing into
me like needles. “Let her dance in that dress. It’ll remind her of her
place. Once something is dirty, it can never be clean again.”
His voice was calm, almost casual, but every word was a
deliberate jab. A reminder of my parents‘ disgrace. A reminder that everything I had come from him.
“If I leave him, I’ll have nothing,” I thought. “But what’s the point of
staying with someone who uses my past as a weapon?”
“Let go!” I shouted, wrenching free of his grasp, only to stumble and crash to the ground.
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The allergic reaction hit me like a freight train. My body felt heavy, my throat constricted, and I couldn’t breathe.
Amber’s voice drifted in, distant and faint. “Ethan, my routine involves a lot of movement. Clara’s dress is too long–it’ll get in the way. If she won’t change, maybe we should just tear it.”
Ethan hesitated for only a second. “Fine.”
“Hold her down,” he ordered.
Hands grabbed at me from every direction. I panicked, thrashing as hard as I could, but it was no use. I was like a fish out of water -flailing helplessly, powerless against them.
“No,” I screamed in my mind, the word echoing in a void of
despair.
“Ah!” The person closest to me let out a sudden, sharp cry.
“What the hell? Who’s there?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
One curse followed another until they abruptly turned into gasps
of shock. The weight on my body lifted, and I was swept into a
pair of arms that smelled faintly of sandalwood.
Struggling to lift my eyelids, I caught the glint of diamond cufflinks
on the edge of a sleeve through my blurry vision.
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“Who’s the idiot who thinks they can-”
25/28
The abuser, now yanked back, turned angrily to confront the
newcomer, but their words died the moment they locked eyes with a pair of icy irises.
The man holding me stood tall–easily over six feet–with a frame that radiated raw power.
His features were striking and sharp, with arched brows cutting
assertively into his temples. His thick lashes cast a brooding
shadow over his cold, piercing eyes, and his lips were set in a tight
line.
Although his face was undeniably handsome, the chilling aur
surrounding him made it impossible to approach lightly.
Ethan, however, noticed something else first, the man’s
entourage.
Behind him stood a group of imposing men dressed in black, each exuding a commanding presence that was far beyond the typical bodyguard.
Standing to the man’s right was a familiar face–Robert Hayes.
Ethan’s breath hitched. Robert Hayes was a powerhouse in
Seaview Isle, a man with considerable sway, someone even Ethan
had tried and failed to approach multiple times. Yet here he was, standing hunched over with his cane, his demeanor unusually
humble.
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An unease crept into Ethan’s chest as he cautiously addressed
the man, his tone probing.
“May I ask for your name, sir?”
The man, towering over Ethan, looked down with thinly veiled.
contempt. “A group of people ganging up on a woman. Don’t you.
feel ashamed?”
Ethan maintained a polite smile. “You misunderstand. She volunteered to stay and perform. After all, it’s a once–in–a–lifetime opportunity to make a name for herself.”
The man’s lips curved into a mocking smirk. “A lie so transparen*
only fools the one telling it.”
He turned slightly toward Robert. “This is the promising talent you spoke of from Seaview Isle?”
Robert’s expression tightened, his tone fawning as he rushed to explain. “This this is an exception, of course.”
Robert’s forced smile vanished as he turned to Ethan, his face
dark with anger.
“Young man, broaden your horizons. You were invited to this gala, not to engage in mob tactics.”
Ethan clenched his fists, a burning frustration simmering in his chest, but his attention remained fixed on the man as he carefully
calculated
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his next move.
27/28
Robert took the opportunity to speak up, raising his voice, “Allow
me to introduce Mr. Julian Reid, of Ardent Industries.”
Ethan froze, his entire body stiffening.
Ardent Industries. That was a name Ethan couldn’t afford to
offend.
The newly appointed head of Ardent Industries was a legend. Julian Reid had led a mercenary team and fought his way out of the jungle, seizing control of the Reid family’s business empire despite his illegitimate status. In record time, he consolidated power and became the undisputed leader of Ardent Industr
Even across the ocean, Ethan had heard of his reputation.
This man was no less than a living nightmare.
Ethan’s eyes flickered with jealousy before–fear quickly subdued
- it.
Amber, who had been clinging to Ethan’s arm, suddenly stepped
forward, releasing her grip.
“Mr. Reid, do you follow entertainment news?” Amber asked, her tone sweet and polished.
“You must be far too busy, or you wouldn’t have misunderstood us like this.” She smiled coyly. “I’m Amber Vaughn, a dancer. The woman you’re holding, Clara, is my colleague. She’s faked
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“You’re Amber Vaughn?” Julian interrupted her coldly.
28/28
Amber’s eyes lit up with barely contained excitement. “You’ve
heard of me?”
The onlookers exchanged whispers. “Wow, Mr. Reid knows Amber? I guess her charm is impossible to resist.”
“No surprise. Amber’s basically a national sweetheart in the
dance world.”
“First Ethan Ward, and now Julian Reid? Some girls have all the
luck.”
Amber tilted her head modestly, her smile poised. “Have you seen
me dance before? I don’t usually take photos with men, but I’d
make an exception for you.”
She smoothed her hair and pulled out her phone, angling it for a
selfie with Julian.
Before she could even smile for the camera, her phone was
slapped out of her hand, landing far away with a loud clatter.
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