Chapter 530

The atmosphere among the spectators turned icy. Olivia's carefully worded remarks about Miranda carried an undercurrent of hostility beneath their polite surface, making everyone uncomfortable.

Online opinions split sharply.

"Olivia was just being playful. Miranda's overreacting again. She's cried twice already during this show. It's getting tiresome."

"Exactly! This is a variety show, not a therapy session. No one's attacking her, yet she keeps breaking down."

"Are you blind? Olivia's sarcasm was dripping. Her daughter wronged Miranda, and even after Miranda extended an olive branch, she gets mocked. Anyone would feel hurt in her position."

The digital battlefield reignited. As Olivia meticulously adjusted the fabric divider between their beds, she casually suggested, "Perhaps we should install surveillance in the room. For Miss Prescott's safety, of course. If anything happens, we'll have evidence to protect the innocent." She lingered pointedly on the word "innocent."

Previously, Miranda had tried framing Isabelle. Now Olivia was countering. After the commotion settled, Olivia guided Isabelle back to their shared space. The new curtain created a clean partition, their modest bed nestled by the window. Though cramped, it provided enough room for mother and daughter.

Regret gnawed at Olivia. Had she known this would distress Isabelle, she never would have brought her along. Her thoughts scattered when the door hinges squeaked.

Victoria and Miranda entered quietly. Miranda's sniffles and puffy eyes betrayed her recent breakdown. Victoria murmured soothing words, her voice calm yet strained.

Miranda suddenly clutched Victoria's wrist, her voice trembling. "Victoria, please don't go. Stay with me a little longer."

Victoria exhaled heavily. "Miranda, I need to unpack. I promise I'll come back after, alright?"

Miranda didn't answer, her watery gaze fixed on the curtain, lips quivering with fresh indignation. "The producers said they're adding cameras," she muttered. "What will people think when they see this divider?"

Though whispered, Olivia caught every word. Her jaw tightened. She'd installed the curtain precisely because of Miranda's dramatics. Any incident would inevitably become Olivia's fault in Miranda's narrative.

Isabelle stirred beside her, groaning. "Mommy, the noise! I can't sleep!" Miranda's weeping, though subdued, carried an irritating shrillness - like a persistent mosquito in the night.

Before Olivia could respond, Miranda's sobs escalated dramatically. Then came the sound of hurried footsteps rushing down the corridor toward them.