I sat at the long table in the upscale restaurant, surrounded by my former classmates, my face a mask of composed indifference despite the tension crackling in the air. Fiona stood at the head of the table, phone in hand, a triumphant smile plastered across her face.
"Everyone," she announced, her voice dripping with malice, "I think it's time we exposed the truth about our dear Elara's so-called marriage."
Whispers rippled through the gathered crowd. I caught Theodore's concerned glance from across the table but gave him a subtle nod. I could handle whatever Fiona was planning.
"Go ahead, Fiona," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I'm fascinated to see what you've come up with this time."
Her eyes narrowed. "I have the phone number of the real Dr. Wilson—Arthur Sterling's actual wife." She brandished her phone like a weapon. "Let's call her right now, shall we?"
