She paused.
“I hope someday you find it in yourself to take responsibility, but I won’t hold my breath.”
She turned toward the exit.
I walked beside her.
Behind us, I heard Victoria start screaming—incoherent denials, accusations, demands that someone do something. I heard Tyler’s parents say something sharp and final to Madison. I heard the murmur of the crowd crescendo into a roar of gossip and speculation.
But I didn’t look back.
Not once.
I need to pause here for a second.
When I walked out of that ballroom with my grandmother, I wasn’t thinking about revenge. I wasn’t thinking about winning. I was just thinking about how much time we’d lost and how grateful I was that we still had some left.
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Back to the story.
We made it to the lobby before Tyler caught up with us. I heard his footsteps first, the quick, sharp click of expensive dress shoes on marble. I turned, expecting anger, maybe threats.
