Kapitel 10: The Accuser Became The Accused

The room was filled with tension as Isabelle stepped forward, the weight of countless eyes pressing on her.

"There must be a misunderstanding," she said, her voice calm yet firm. "I never ruined her dress."

Her words hung in the air for a moment before Catherine's sharp voice sliced through the silence.

"Every piece of evidence points back to you!" Catherine snapped, her voice laced with accusation. She turned to the crowd, her arms flailing slightly for emphasis as they murmured their agreement.

Isabelle met Catherine's glare without flinching, her calm demeanor unshaken. "I have evidence to prove it wasn't me," she countered, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.

The crowd buzzed, their whispers growing louder. Catherine crossed her arms, scoffing. "Proof? Don't make me laugh. You mean some made-up story to save yourself?"

Isabelle's lips curved into a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was the kind of smile that sent a chill down Catherine's spine, though she wouldn't dare admit it.

Beside Catherine, Sonia shifted uncomfortably, her fingers playing nervously with the hem of her sleeve.

proof? ha! how can she possibly have proof when she was never aware?

Alice stepped forward, holding up a garment bag.

"This is the bag the dress was kept in, right?" Isabelle asked, her tone neutral but her gaze sharp as it landed on Catherine.

Catherine straightened her shoulders and nodded. "Yes, that's the exact bag."

Did she really thinks we wouldn't have switched the bag? Her own proof is just going to go against her.

Isabelle tilted her head, studying Catherine with the air of a cat toying with a mouse. "You're absolutely sure? Everyone here heard you, correct?" She held the bag higher for the audience to see.

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Yes. Everyone's bags have their names sewn on them. See? Sonia's name is right there." She gestured toward the embroidered name on the side, the other contestants nodding in agreement.

Sonia nodded nervously. "That's the bag,"

"Interesting," Isabelle remarked, her tone laced with quiet triumph. She unzipped the bag slowly, each metallic pull of the zipper amplified in the hushed room.

"When Sonia left her garment bag behind, I couldn't help but notice something… odd," Isabelle explained, her words deliberate. "It was heavier than mine."

"And what does that prove?" Catherine barked, her patience thinning.

The whispers grew louder.

"She's really pressing this point…"

"What's she trying to prove?"

The crowd craned their necks as Isabelle reached inside the bag. The soft rustle of fabric seemed deafening, followed by a collective gasp as she pulled out a dress—pristine and untouched.

The room gasped.

"What? That's the dress they said was ruined!"

"Then what's this?"

Catherine's expression froze, her mouth opening and closing as if words failed her. Beside her, Sonia paled, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them in front of her.

"This bag," Isabelle continued, her voice slicing through the tension, "has a hidden compartment. A compartment that perfectly concealed the original, undamaged dress."

"That's absurd!" Catherine snapped, her voice rising as panic seeped into her tone. "The bag must have been switched!"

"Didn't you just confirm this was the same bag Sonia had?" Isabelle's brow arched, her tone dripping with feigned confusion. "Are you going back on your word, Catherine?"

Catherine clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her gaze darted to Sonia, silently pleading for backup.

The woman in charge stepped forward, her stern voice cutting through the murmurs. "This isn't possible. Our company would never issue a bag with a hidden compartment. It must have been tampered with."

"Unless," Isabelle interjected smoothly, "it was planned."

All eyes turned to Sonia and Catherine. The woman in charge's expression darkened. "Who gave you the bag?" she demanded. "Bring the worker here immediately!"

Moments later, a trembling worker was escorted into the room.

"Why did you issue a contestant a bag with a secret compartment?" the woman in charge asked sharply.

Her eyes darted nervously around the room, finally settling on Catherine and Sonia. When she saw the warning glare in Sonia's eyes, her hands began to tremble. She knew better than saying the truth because she knows Sonia won't spare her. She has seen how other people have been dealt with which made her shudder.

The worker hesitated, sweat beading on her brow. Finally, she pointed toward the woman who had first accused Isabelle.

"She… she told me to do it," the worker stammered. "She said it was for her friend. I didn't know it would be used like this."

All heads turned toward the accused woman. Her face turned ghostly pale. "That's a lie!" she cried, her voice shrill, but the crowd's murmurs quickly grew louder.

"It makes sense, she was so quick to point fingers."

"Trying to frame someone else,"

The accused woman turned to Sonia and Catherine, desperation written across her face. But Catherine's expression was icy, and Sonia wore a mask of betrayal.

But what met her was a frigid stare from Catherine and a look of heart-wrenching betrayal from Sonia.

"Why would you do this to us?" Catherine said, her voice a sharp blade disguised as silk. Her lips curved into a faint frown, but her gaze was calculating, already working to shift the blame away from herself. If someone has to fall, it won't be me, she thought.

The woman's knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor in front of them, her hands clasped in desperation. "Please, you have to believe me! I didn't do this!" Her voice cracked as she turned her tear-filled eyes to Sonia. "Sonia, you know me. I would never hurt you. I couldn't!"

Sonia crouched down, her movements slow, deliberate. Her lips trembled as though holding back tears, her glistening eyes fixed on the woman. "I don't understand," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why would you do this? After everything I've done for you? Haven't I always been there for you? Supported you? And now, not only do you try to ruin my audition, but you put the blame on my friend?"

The crowd's whispers swelled into a low roar.

"Unbelievable. Betraying her own friend like that."

"She's a snake."

"She should apologize."

The accused woman's face twisted with anguish, her palms pressing against the cold floor as if she could sink into it and escape. "I swear, it wasn't me," she choked out, her voice barely audible over the noise.

Sonia's tears rolled down her cheeks now, her vulnerability on full display. She turned her head slightly, as if struggling to even look at the woman. "You've hurt me more than you'll ever know," she said, her voice trembling.

Sonia's face softened, and she took a deep breath as though summoning all the strength she had. "But…" she began, her voice carrying a hint of a quiver, "I've always believed in second chances." She came down to her, placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. "Even after this, I forgive you."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, quickly followed by admiring murmurs.

"She's amazing. So forgiving."

"I wouldn't have been able to do that."

"Such a big heart."

Sonia pulled the woman into a brief hug, her face the picture of compassion.

The woman in charge let out a weary sigh, her patience thoroughly tested. "Call the guards and remove the culprits. This kind of behavior will not be tolerated," she declared, her tone firm and commanding.

Isabelle stood quietly, her arms loosely crossed. She watched the scene unfold, her lips pressing into a faint line. Her gaze locked onto Sonia, whose expression was a masterpiece of feigned heartbreak and reluctant forgiveness.

She saw through the charade. Sonia had an uncanny ability to twist situations to her advantage and win over the crowd with ease. Always pulling the strings from the shadows, never getting her own hands dirty. She's perfected the art of letting others take the fall while she plays the victim.

I'll tear that flawless mask off her face and expose her for who she truly is.

As Sonia embraced the woman, the crowd remained oblivious to the subtle pinch she delivered, causing the woman to flinch sharply.

Sonia leaned in close, her voice low but firm, laced with an unmistakable warning. "Don't do anything you will regret," she murmured, her words veiled in an aura of sweetness that only the woman could decipher.

Pulling back slightly, Sonia maintained her radiant smile, her tone dipping into a quiet menace. "Because if you cross me, you'll wish you were never born. Understand?"

The woman's eyes widened in terror, her head bowing as fear overtook her. She remained silent, trembling as the security guards arrived, their firm grip guiding her away from the scene.

Meanwhile, the crowd saw only Sonia's serene expression, mistaking her calculated threat for a gesture of compassion.

The woman in charge turned to Isabelle, her tone laced with remorse. "On behalf of the company, I sincerely apologize for these false accusations."

Before Isabelle could respond, Sonia stepped forward, her expression carefully crafted into one of regret. "I want to apologize as well," she said, her voice soft and pleading. "I had no idea my friend would betray me like this. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Isabelle's lips curved into a calm smile, though her eyes gleamed with something sharper. "Of course, Sonia," she replied smoothly. "I only hope you don't end up following in her footsteps."

For a fleeting moment, Sonia's façade cracked, her brows twitching as her smile faltered. She recovered quickly, tilting her head with feigned curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

Before Isabelle could answer, the woman in charge interjected. "Miss Isabelle, you and the other participants are needed to finalize the contracts."

Isabelle gave a polite nod, then turned to Sonia, her smile unwavering. "We'll meet again." With that, she walked away without waiting for a response.

Sonia's eyes followed her retreating figure, her knuckles whitening as she clenched her fists. Catherine, sensing her frustration, stepped closer. "How did she figure it out?" she asked, her voice hushed.

"That's exactly what I want to know," Sonia snapped, her tone icy as she turned to glare at Catherine. "Didn't you assure me the bag was switched? So how in the world did she end up with the same one?"

"I swear, I don't know!" Catherine insisted, her voice rising slightly. "I checked it myself. Everything was in place."

A realization dawned on Sonia, her mind racing. Did she know all along? Her eyes narrowed as she glanced toward the direction Isabelle had just walked through.

A cold, amused chuckle escaped her lips. "She thinks she's clever," Sonia muttered, a sly smile curling at the corners of her mouth. "But she has no idea who she's up against."

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