“Ha…”
After a long pause, the only sound that came from Claire was a faint chuckle.
It wasn’t amusement—it was the kind of laugh that slipped out when you were too angry to even form words.
From the other end, Sabrina gasped, “You’re actually laughing? How? The Bennetts basically dumped every bit of crap on you just to clean up Fiona’s image. How are you not losing your mind?”
“Where’s that fire from the charity gala? Bring that back and hit them where it hurts!”
“Seriously, go roast those jerks!”
Yes, she cursed.
This was the same Sabrina who always spoke like honey and silk—the queen bee of Cloudmere’s social scene, always the picture of poise.
Claire gave a dry, bitter chuckle. “What if what she’s saying is true? They’ve got the ‘proof,’ right?”
“Bullshit!”
