"What do you mean family?" Ophelia roared.
The sound ripped out of her before she could stop it, raw, sharp, unrestrained. The moment it left her lips, camera flashes exploded like fireworks. White light burst across her vision, blinding and merciless.
Ophelia recovered instantly.
Her face transformed, fury melting into poise with practiced precision. She turned toward the paparazzi, lips curving into a gracious, composed smile that did not reach her eyes. One hand lifted in a soft, almost maternal wave.
"Thank you all for coming," she said warmly, voice steady. "We appreciate your respect during this difficult time."
Then she turned back.
The smile vanished.
Levi stood unmoved, his expression unreadable. Lyse remained silent beside him, her posture calm, her gaze steady, too steady. Ophelia hated that most of all. There was no triumph in Lyse's eyes. No fear either.
Just certainty.
