Chapter 114 A Good Show
Jasmine bit down lightly on her lower lip. "Bianca, I'll try again."
Bianca gave a small nod, lifting her hand to rub her temple.
By the time night settled over the city, she had packed away the files and exchanged a brief farewell with Jasmine.
On the road, cars sped past in quick bursts, headlights carving ribbons of light through the dark. Outside the window, the city blurred into streaks and shadows.
Her gaze drifted, unfocused, thoughts colliding in a relentless tide.
The sudden vibration of her phone snapped her out of it. She glanced down, the screen glowing against the dim interior.
With a swipe, the message opened. For a heartbeat, her pupils contracted, and her fingers clenched around the device as if anchoring herself.
She downloaded the file without hesitation. Images, screenshots, and audio clips bloomed across the screen—clear, undeniable.
Blair and Samuel... their connection ran deep.
Evidence delivered straight to her hand was a gift she would never waste.
Bianca slipped the phone back into her bag, a faint smile playing at her lips as her eyes returned to the shifting city lights.
The satisfaction didn't last.
Another weight pressed in from the edges of her mind—the lingering question of her mother's death. No progress. No leads. Just silence.
Maybe chasing shadows was pointless. But surrender was not in her nature.
Her mother's death was too strange, too neatly explained away. Bianca would never accept a truth wrapped in lies. She would find the real story.
Resolve hardened in her chest. She typed out a message to her private investigator.
"Keep digging. I'll pay more."
The phone buzzed again. Her palm pressed tight against its edges, obsession gnawing at her from within.
She drew in a slow breath, forcing the storm in her eyes to ease.
The next day, in a cafe just off campus.
"Hello, Ms. Hall."
Across the table, Stella Hall extended a tentative hand, brushing Bianca's fingertips before withdrawing quickly.
Her thick fringe hid most of her face. The plain clothes she wore swallowed any hint of her shape.
It was hard to imagine that this girl had once competed with Blair for the title of "Campus Star."
Blair had a talent for ruining people.
"I... I still think I should say no." Stella's voice was so soft it barely reached across the table.
If the cafe hadn't been so still, Bianca might not have heard her at all.
No impatience showed on Bianca's face. She smiled gently, nodding as if she understood.
"I know you're afraid. But someone has to expose what Blair's done. If no one speaks, she'll hurt more people."
Stella's fingers twisted in the fabric of her shirt, her head bowing lower. "It can't be me. If Blair finds out, she'll expose..."
Her body trembled—fear etched into her bones.
She only wanted to finish school quietly, without trouble.
She reached for her white canvas bag, ready to leave. Meeting Bianca had been nothing more than a reluctant favor to Jasmine.
"If you're worried about being targeted, don't be. All eyes will be on Blair."
Bianca slid her phone across the table.
The images on the screen hit Stella like a slap. Her mouth fell open in shock.
Her resistance faltered.
"Is this really Blair?"
Blair had worn innocence like armor at school, pretending to be untouchable.
"If these photos go public, she's the one who'll burn. More importantly, don't punish yourself to protect someone who hurt you. You're the victim."
Bianca's voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.
Stella's eyes sharpened, as if she'd spotted a way out.
Something in her shifted. Even her fringe couldn't hide the glint in her gaze.
"I'll help you."
Bianca's smile deepened. She stood, offering her hand again.
"Then let's work together. Our plan is set for the welcome gala. I'm not here for private settlements. I want everyone to see Blair's real face. There are others like you, people she's hurt, but I can't reach them. Once you stand up, they will."
Stella's breathing quickened as she clasped Bianca's hand. "Let's do it."
Night settled in, but the auditorium was ablaze with light.
Bianca and Jasmine sat in the front row.
The stage lights narrowed into a single beam, and Blair stepped forward in a white gown, her smile perfectly placed.
Her gaze swept the crowd and locked on Bianca. The smile deepened.
The original male and female hosts were gone. Blair stood alone.
The hum of conversation died, replaced by whispers.
Every eye turned toward her. The air felt charged, carrying the scent of something calculated.
"Bianca, Blair just looked at us. What's she trying to say?"
Jasmine swallowed hard, unease curling in her gut.
Bianca's expression remained steady, her posture unchanged.
"Looks like we're thinking along the same lines."
The weight in her tone only confused Jasmine further. She scratched at the back of her head.
"What do you mean? You and me?"
Bianca didn't answer. Her eyes stayed locked on Blair.
"Showtime."
Their gazes met midair, sharp enough to pierce.
Jasmine fell silent, following Bianca's stare.
Blair's smile faded. A single tear slid down her cheek, catching the light before falling to the stage floor.
"Teachers, classmates... I'm sorry to take your time. But I don't know what else to do."
Her voice trembled, heavy with feigned grief.
"I'm afraid others might suffer like I have, at the hands of Bianca and Jasmine. So I have to speak here, in front of everyone."
Jasmine's eyes widened. She clutched Bianca's arm. "Bianca... what is she talking about?"
Bianca's lips curved faintly. Her fingers tapped the armrest. "She knows how to pick her moment."
She patted Jasmine's hand. "I'm curious to see how she plays this."
Blair's tears kept falling. "Jasmine is my cousin. That day, I only meant to warn her not to get involved with strangers. But they didn't like it. When no one was around... they taught me a lesson..."