"What?" I stared at her, disbelieving. "I didn't push you! I never touched you!"
But Genevie didn't care. Tears streamed down her face. She looked so fragile, so pitiful. Everyone's heart would break for her.
"I just wanted to talk to you..." she sobbed, her voice barely audible. "I didn't think you'd do this to me. My baby... I just hope my baby's okay..."
The whispers closed in around me.
"Oh my God, she pushed a pregnant woman down the stairs?"
"That's sick."
"They were together first, you know..."
"Poor Miss Sterling. And she's carrying a child!"
I looked up. Their eyes stabbed into me. Disgust. Anger. Judgment. Every look condemned me. Every word sentenced me.
I tried to speak. To explain. But my throat locked up.
Then I sawhim.
Kirill.
His face was ashen. Fury blazed in his eyes. He stormed through the crowd, heading straight for us.
"Kirill!" I reached for him instinctively, grabbing for his sleeve. "It wasn't me—"
Before I could finish, he shoved me.
Hard.
I stumbled backward, my back slamming into the sharp edge of the stair railing. Pain exploded through my side. My vision went dark.
"Kirill..." I clutched my waist, gasping. "Please, just listen—"
But he didn't even look at me.
He crouched beside Genevie, lifting her gently, like she was made of glass.
"Genevie, does it hurt? Are you okay?" His voice was low, urgent. "Don't be scared. I'm here."
Genevie leaned into him, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't speak.
The sight ripped through me.
"Kirill!" I shouted, my voice breaking. "She's lying! She fell on her own! I didn't touch her! She attacked me first—look at my arm!"
I shoved up my sleeve, showing him the red marks.
But Kirill just glanced at me. Cold. Dismissive.
"You?" His voice was brutal. "You think Genevie could hurt you? Look at yourself."
His words drove straight into my heart.
The whispers grew louder.
"Obviously she's lying!"
