Zinnia’s face was set in a look that brooked no argument.
Every word she spoke landed with the weight of a gavel.
It was unmistakable—this time, Zinnia had no intention of letting Noelle off the hook.
That was when Rosalie began to panic.
She was angry at her daughter for acting so recklessly, for treating her own brother’s life like it was nothing.
But what was done was done, and anger wouldn’t change a thing.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was minimizing the damage to Noelle.
With that in mind, Rosalie shot Landon a desperate look and said,
“Landon, you can’t let Noelle go out there and tell the truth. You know what those ignorant, vicious people online are like. The moment they find out Noelle was the one who hurt her brother, they’ll hound her to death.”
She said this with the air of someone stating the obvious, as if passing the blame onto the online mob was the most reasonable thing in the world.
But when the word “rabble” left her lips, everyone in the lounge exchanged uneasy glances.
Rabble?
Please.
Everyone here was just an ordinary person—did Rosalie think herself royalty?
“Yesterday, Noelle was already pushed to the brink by their harassment. She nearly took her own life. If it happens again, I can’t even imagine…”
Rosalie’s voice trailed off.
She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with sobs, looking every bit the victim—perhaps even more so than Zinnia.
Landon listened in silence, eyes downcast, lost in thought.
To Zinnia, though, his silence looked like agreement, as if he was weighing Rosalie’s plea.
He cared deeply about Noelle’s depression. The moment her condition worsened, he’d lose all reason in his desperation to help her.
With Rosalie saying all this, who could say he wouldn’t just try to sweep everything under the rug for Noelle’s sake?

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