“Sisterly bond? Please. Riley Walker must be seething with resentment for Cleo,” a commenter posted online.
“Exactly. She’s the rightful heiress. But with Cleo back, is she supposed to just stand aside and smile?”
“Hold up, something’s not adding up,” another user noted.
“Don’t jump to conclusions. Riley seems genuinely upset. Almost panicked.”
Cleo’s voice was light as a feather, a whisper caught in a summer breeze. “Curious about your mom… the housekeeper?”
Riley’s head snapped up, knuckles whitening around the staircase banister. Her eyes became a storm—disbelief, pain, fury—all locked on Cleo. “You saw her? What… what did she say… at the end?”
“The woman who couldn’t look anyone in the eye?” Cleo let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Yes, I saw her before she passed. She was clinging to an old, faded photograph.”
Cleo leaned in, her cloying perfume engulfing Riley, making her instinctively recoil and wrinkle her nose. “She looked so distressed, so I did her a small kindness. I tore it up.”
“What?!” Riley’s whole body trembled, nails biting into the banister as she bit her lip, eyes blazing. “What did you just say?”
“But…” Cleo dragged the word out like a blade, “she did leave you something. Want to know what it is?”
“What is it?!”
Riley lunged, fisting Cleo’s collar, her gaze wild and desperate. Cleo flinched, heart hammering at the sight of the veins bulging in Riley’s arms.
“Let go of me first, or you’ll never find out!”
Rage boiled under Riley’s skin, but she forced her fingers loose. Cleo brushed off her clothes with theatrical disgust.
Then, in a split second, Cleo seized Riley’s wrist, pressing it hard against her own chest. She smiled—a twisted, unhinged grin. “Why not end it all now? You might just reunite with her.”
Instinctively, Riley stepped back. The woman facing her was completely off the rails.
Just then—
“Are you girls still chatting? Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Walker’s voice floated up from the kitchen.
Riley moved to pull away, to leave this madness. But Cleo leaned in again, her lips against Riley’s ear, whispering like poison. “Dinner? You don’t deserve to eat.”
And in an instant, Cleo’s voice rose, dripping with fake terror, “Sister, what are you doing?!”
Feet pounded up the stairs.
Riley’s hand flew back as if burned, while Cleo threw herself backward like a marionette with its strings cut.
“Cleo!” Mrs. Walker’s scream ripped through the air.
Riley froze, her mind scrambling to keep up. Mr. Walker stormed in, and a stinging slap cracked across her face. The coppery taste of blood bloomed in her mouth as silence swallowed everything.
“Riley Walker! Cleo’s just come home, and you’re already pulling this crap?!” Mr. Walker’s roar echoed through the villa.
“Quick, call the doctor!” Mrs. Walker clutched Cleo, her hands shaking. Blood seeped between her fingers as she tried to shift Cleo.
Frantic, Mr. Walker shot Riley an accusing glare while fumbling for his phone.
Riley just stood there, in complete shock, unable to process any of it.
Online, the live chat blew up.
“Wait, didn’t Cleo fall on her own?”
“I caught it on video—she grabbed Riley’s hand and pulled it towards her!”
“Don’t spread rumors! Riley totally pushed her! Look at her, she’s in shock, that’s guilt!”
“Can we review the footage? Something feels seriously off.”
“It all happened so fast. Nobody caught everything clearly…”
In the courtroom, the tension was electric.
The judge brought down the gavel. “Order! The court will now play the defendant’s memory for the time in question.”
As the screen flickered to life, Cleo rushed to the witness stand, her voice shrill. “You can’t show that! It violates privacy!”
Her carefully styled hair was a mess, like a spooked cat, and tears brimmed in her eyes. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Walker, shaking her head with desperate, pleading shakes. “Dad, Mom, you have to believe me. Riley pushed me. She really did…”
Mrs. Walker instinctively reached out to comfort her, but her hand froze midair. Her eyes were glued to the screen.
“Ha, give Cleo the Best Actress Oscar already,” someone quipped in the comments.
“Unreal, right?”
“We shouldn’t have just listened to her. Looks like we were played from the start.”
Riley’s brother suddenly raced to the judge’s bench, tugging at his shirt collar, his voice raw. “Riley Walker, say something! Now!”
Hearing his desperate plea, Riley turned slowly toward him. The truth was already out; what more was there to say?
The judge struck the gavel again. “After reviewing the memory trial, the charges against Riley Walker for intentionally harming Cleo Walker are hereby dismissed!”
With that gavel crack, Cleo slumped to the floor, completely deflated. Murmurs and pointing fingers rippled through the courtroom.
“Hard to believe someone so young could be this twisted.”
“Yeah, so manipulative. Without that memory playback, Riley would’ve been convicted in everyone’s eyes forever.”
The judge rapped the gavel three more times, and a calm, resonant voice echoed, “We now proceed with the third accusation.”
The courtroom fell deathly silent.
The judge, holding the case file, spoke with weight. “Riley Walker is accused of plagiarizing ‘Rising Phoenix,’ a piece originally by Emily Smith.”
The livestream erupted with orange messages—Emily’s signature support color.
“‘Rising Phoenix’ even made the holiday show. There’s no way there’s an injustice here.”
“The judges loved Riley’s performance, but it was clearly Emily’s concept!”
“I saw that competition live. Emily definitely performed first. Riley must’ve changed her routine backstage.”
“I was there too, I can back that up!”
Emily Smith sat tall at the witness stand, her voice crisp through the mic, “Your Honor, I have footage of Riley secretly filming my rehearsal.”
She shot a glance at Cleo, a knowing smirk curving her lips.
“And if I remember right, Riley even took over my dance studio later that day!”
“Cleo was there too.”
