The sudden movement startled me. I snapped my phone shut, uncrossed my legs, and stood abruptly.
“What are you doing? Why are you kneeling?”
"I know you've always hated me, Claire. You blame me for everything—even what happened at the Hilton. I know you think I orchestrated it..." Breanne dabbed her eyes with a tissue, her voice trembling with manufactured fragility.
"You did orchestrate it. Or did you suffer memory loss recently? Let me guess, if this staged ploy doesn’t work, a mysterious accident is next?" I stared incredulously.
Breanne ignored me, continuing her tearful monologue. "Even if you despise me, you could've let me explain! We're supposed to be family! How could you... How could you leak my private photos?"
I finally understood Breanne's theatrical arrival.
She had
