Luna glanced at Grace's pale face and smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Honestly, even before you faked your death, Emily was already cozying up to William. You remember that school anniversary performance, right? The ballet piece 'Confession' that got the whole campus talking? She choreographed it herself—all to impress William. After the show, I saw the bouquet he gave her backstage with my own eyes."
Grace's fingers clenched tightly on the arms of her wheelchair, veins bulging from the pressure.
Of course she remembered. Back then, when William—who'd always kept his distance from others—decided to give flowers, she hadn't been thrilled at all. She'd confronted him, asking point-blank if he was into her little junior.
He'd brushed it off, saying it was just a polite
