The night unraveled in an intricate sequence of events, each escalating the drama. First, Mina, accompanied by reporters, stormed into the Fuller residence, unleashing a bombshell accusation upon the assembled guests. The family, reeling from the shock, scrambled to react, losing control of the narrative. Then, as if perfectly orchestrated, Laurence arrived with his team, immediately leveling accusations against Kayla and taking her into custody.
It all unfolded seamlessly, one action flowing directly into the next, with the precision of a meticulously planned operation. Myra, her mind racing, refused to believe this was solely Mina's doing. A housekeeper, skilled in cooking and cleaning, couldn't possibly orchestrate such devastation. Someone else was pulling the strings. Her voice, sharp with fury, rang out, "Who's behind this? Tell me who it is!"
Mina's expression twisted into something almost triumphant. Her gaze drifted to Felicia, a bitter smile curving her lips. "It's her. Your other precious daughter."
Her words ignited a wildfire of rage in Myra. Felicia had indeed aided Mina, her advice and calculated moves ensuring Kayla's exposure and accountability. But Mina's gratitude was laced with resentment. She resented Felicia's shrewdness, her possession of the evidence, and her inaction to save her husband. Felicia could have stopped Kayla, prevented the murder, but she hadn't. To Mina, both Fuller daughters were complicit—one the killer, the other a cold observer.
Mina, radiating the satisfaction of revenge, held her head high. Consumed by anger, Myra stormed towards Felicia, striking her across the face with a resounding blow. The sharp impact sent Felicia's head snapping sideways, her ponytail unraveling. A bright red handprint blossomed on her pale cheek. Myra's voice, clear despite the ringing in Felicia's ears, cut like daggers. "I wish you were never my daughter! Get out of my sight! Get out!"
In that moment, Myra bore an uncanny resemblance to Tabitha—the blazing eyes, unforgiving scorn, and venomous words cutting deeper than any physical blow. Felicia, despite the irony, found the swelling in her cheek made even a small smile painful. She had anticipated this day.
Silently, she gathered her coat and a small backpack already by the door, containing only a needle case, a phone and charger, and two books—her sole possessions in the Fuller residence.
Sebastian hesitated, his instincts urging him to follow, but Myra's sharp command halted him. "Stand right there. Don't you dare step out of this house!" "Mom..." Sebastian's brows furrowed, torn between loyalty and frustration. He looked to Dexter for support, but his father's silence weighed heavily on him.
Torn between defiance and compliance, Sebastian ultimately remained. He understood his parents' anger; Felicia's actions had gone too far, tarnishing the entire family's reputation. Frustration boiled within him, his head throbbing with the enormity of it all. Then, he saw something unexpected—the black swan necklace. It was the necklace he'd bought for Kayla, the one she'd so flippantly rejected. Now it remained, a final, poignant detail in the chaos Felicia left behind.