Page 154 of Sin

“Can she do that?”

“She did. Whether she can do it without consequence is a different question.”

Mara stands and returns to her desk, already in motion.

She picks up the office phone. “I need screenshots of the latest video from Kimi Valley. Yes, Jenna Sinclair’s mother. Full capture. Comments, shares, timestamp, all of it. Preserve the livestream if it’s still active.”

Mara hangs up and turns back to me.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. Do not respond. Do not post. Do not call her. Do not call Jenna. Do not call Mason.”

At his name, my throat tightens.

“He’ll see it.”

She nods. “Yes, I’m sure he will.”

“He’ll lose his mind.”

“Probably.”

My phone lights again. This time with Sin’s name. Mara looks at it. Then at me.

“Do you want to answer?”

Every part of me says yes. My hand actually moves toward the phone.

Then I stop.

Because if I hear his voice right now, I will either break completely or ask him to fix something he can’t fix. And I can’t keep making him my emergency exit.

“No,” I whisper.

Mara nods once.

The call goes to voicemail. Immediately, a text appears.

Sin

Laurel, call me.

Please.

The please is what nearly does me in, so I turn the phone facedown. Mara watches me do it.

“Good,” she says softly.

“I don’t feel good.”

“You made a strong choice while panicking. That counts.”

“Does it?”

“Today, yes.”

Another tear slips out. Then another. Then the whole thing cracks open.

I cry in Mara Ellison’s very expensive office, into tissues that are soft enough to suggest her hourly rate is fully justified. I cry because my name is public. Because strangers hate me. Because Jenna’s pain is real and I’m part of it. Because Sin loves me, maybe, but love doesn’t undo damage. Because I worked so hard to be known for something other than surviving my childhood, and now the internet knows me as a scandal.