How the hell did this happen?

It was supposed to be Riley Walker selling him out—so how did things flip like this?

"At first, I thought they might be in cahoots, but this clearly shows Liam getting himself into hot water…"

"Honestly, how can anyone say his sister tried to sell him?"

Riley is visibly freaking out. She dashes over, grabbing Liam by the arm. "Liam, where are you going? I got the caramel apples. It's time to go home."

"Get off me! Who says you're my sister?"

Liam, hyped up to be out and about, doesn't want the fun to end. He shoves her away, ready to jump into the stranger's car.

Tears of desperation well up in Riley's eyes as she pleads with the shop owner. "Ma'am, that man's a kidnapper—he's trying to take my brother. Please, stop him!"

But Liam ignores her, even rolling his eyes.

A flicker of doubt crosses the shopkeeper's face, but seeing Liam so calm, she hesitates. "Kiddo, you really being taken against your will?"

Liam shakes his head. "No."

Riley can't believe it. "Liam, stop messing around! Come home with me!"

The man seizes the moment to cut in. "Don't listen to this girl. He's my nephew, and I'm just taking him home. I don't know where this crazy chick came from."

And just like that, the shopkeeper sides with the man, thinking Riley's just causing a scene.

"This little girl's lost it, grabbing some random kid off the street and claiming he's her brother. Maybe she's the one who's unhinged."

"I've heard about kids being used to kidnap other kids. She's probably the real kidnapper, playing all innocent."

Liam looks at Riley with total indifference, like she's a complete stranger.

Riley's eyes grow even redder, but as just a kid, she can't out-argue the adults. Instead, she clings to Liam inside the car, insisting, "I'm not a kidnapper! He is my brother!"

The kidnapper, pissed that his plan's been blown, lashes out violently at Riley, dead set on taking Liam.

The shopkeeper, not wanting any trouble, just stands there watching Riley get dragged outside without lifting a finger.

Riley gets beaten brutally, yet she clings fiercely to Liam, refusing to let go.

That area is barely populated, and nobody seems to notice her desperate situation.

Finally, someone upstairs hears the ruckus and dials 911.

By the time the cops show up, Riley's barely conscious, still gripping Liam's hand, only letting go when she hears the sirens.

The Walkers are totally shell-shocked watching Riley shield Liam, unable to get a single word out.

Liam, his face going pale, shakes his head. "No... How can this be? Did I remember it wrong?"

His childhood memories are fuzzy at best; all he recalls is almost being kidnapped when he went out with Riley…

The comments start piling on.

"If Riley wanted to sell Liam, she could've just played dumb. Now she's beaten to a pulp and still getting vilified? I actually feel sorry for her."

"A little kid not knowing better is one thing, but how could the Walkers accuse Riley of trying to hurt her own brother?"

"Knowing Liam blamed her for this, I can't imagine what her life with the Walkers was like. No wonder she turned so bitter later."

The Walkers' faces go slack. "When we got there, Liam said Riley wasn't around, which is why we thought she didn't look after him properly…"

The judge resumes the video.

The cops rushed Riley to the hospital while bringing the kidnapper and Liam to the station, notifying the Walkers.

Liam, seeing Riley beaten up, is petrified, crying non-stop at the station.

When the Walkers show up, they focus entirely on their son, not even asking how Riley is, despite the police mentioning a young girl had protected Liam and was hospitalized. They show zero concern.

Liam doesn't dare speak the truth, and the family heads home without another word.

Meanwhile, Riley's left alone in the hospital, recovering with no one to care for her.

Upon discharge, she gets blamed for not looking after Liam, which almost led to his kidnapping.

No matter how she explains, the Walkers don't believe her.

The Walkers' faces are drained of color, and Liam shakes in his seat.

He'd thought Riley had wronged him, subjecting her to endless ridicule and humiliation, convinced she owed him.

But now, knowing it was his own damn foolishness, and Riley risked her life to protect him…

What about all the crap he's put her through ever since?

The judge's gavel comes down coldly. "Based on the evidence presented, the Walkers' accusations against Riley Walker for attempting to kidnap Liam Walker are unfounded."

The Walkers fumble for words, their emotions all tangled up. "We were wrong about that incident, but we didn't punish her too harshly for it… Later, when Cleo came back, whatever the siblings had, Riley got too. But she was jealous of Cleo. On Cleo's first day back, Riley pushed her down the stairs. Cleo never did anything to her; how could Riley be so heartless?"

Liam grudgingly admits, "Yeah, I went after her over that incident when I shouldn't have. But my sister was so kind—how could Riley be that cold-blooded?"

The judge stays silent, just continuing the footage.

Soon, teenage Riley appears on the screen, standing alone, while the Walker parents and Liam warmly surround Cleo on the couch.

"Cleo, now that you're home, we'll make sure you're never wronged again. We'll make it all up to you," they promise.

Mrs. Walker turns to Riley, her tone a clear warning: "Don't you dare bully Cleo, or I won't forgive you!"

Riley hangs her head even lower. "Okay, Mom, I'll go upstairs now."

As she turns to leave, Cleo rushes up, grabbing her arm. "Mom, I'm sure my sister won't bully me. We're going to the same school soon, so I'd like to chat with her and get familiar with everything."

Riley looks tense, but Mr. and Mrs. Walker don't even question it, urging her to get along with her sister.

The two sisters head upstairs. Once there, Cleo suddenly speaks up, "Riley, did you know your real mom was still looking for you when she died?"

"You stole my life of luxury, so it's poetic justice your parents died so miserably. It's all your karma. Be smart and get the hell out of my house, or you'll suffer even more later."

The screen glitches out momentarily, and when it clears, it shows the spiral staircase in the Walker mansion.

The two are standing at the stairs, Cleo looking down at Riley with an air of superiority, a total 180 from her earlier vulnerable act.

Cleo takes Riley's hand, her fingers ice-cold.

Riley instinctively tries to pull away, but Cleo tightens her grip.

Viewers watching the live broadcast begin to share their thoughts on the screen.

“Sisterly bond? Please. Riley Walker must be seething with resentment for Cleo,” a commenter posted online.

“Exactly. She’s the rightful heiress. But with Cleo back, is she supposed to just stand aside and smile?”

“Hold up, something’s not adding up,” another user noted.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. Riley seems genuinely upset. Almost panicked.”

Cleo’s voice was light as a feather, a whisper caught in a summer breeze. “Curious about your mom… the housekeeper?”

Riley’s head snapped up, knuckles whitening around the staircase banister. Her eyes became a storm—disbelief, pain, fury—all locked on Cleo. “You saw her? What… what did she say… at the end?”

“The woman who couldn’t look anyone in the eye?” Cleo let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Yes, I saw her before she passed. She was clinging to an old, faded photograph.”

Cleo leaned in, her cloying perfume engulfing Riley, making her instinctively recoil and wrinkle her nose. “She looked so distressed, so I did her a small kindness. I tore it up.”

“What?!” Riley’s whole body trembled, nails biting into the banister as she bit her lip, eyes blazing. “What did you just say?”

“But…” Cleo dragged the word out like a blade, “she did leave you something. Want to know what it is?”

“What is it?!”

Riley lunged, fisting Cleo’s collar, her gaze wild and desperate. Cleo flinched, heart hammering at the sight of the veins bulging in Riley’s arms.

“Let go of me first, or you’ll never find out!”

Rage boiled under Riley’s skin, but she forced her fingers loose. Cleo brushed off her clothes with theatrical disgust.

Then, in a split second, Cleo seized Riley’s wrist, pressing it hard against her own chest. She smiled—a twisted, unhinged grin. “Why not end it all now? You might just reunite with her.”

Instinctively, Riley stepped back. The woman facing her was completely off the rails.

Just then—

“Are you girls still chatting? Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Walker’s voice floated up from the kitchen.

Riley moved to pull away, to leave this madness. But Cleo leaned in again, her lips against Riley’s ear, whispering like poison. “Dinner? You don’t deserve to eat.”

And in an instant, Cleo’s voice rose, dripping with fake terror, “Sister, what are you doing?!”

Feet pounded up the stairs.

Riley’s hand flew back as if burned, while Cleo threw herself backward like a marionette with its strings cut.

“Cleo!” Mrs. Walker’s scream ripped through the air.

Riley froze, her mind scrambling to keep up. Mr. Walker stormed in, and a stinging slap cracked across her face. The coppery taste of blood bloomed in her mouth as silence swallowed everything.

“Riley Walker! Cleo’s just come home, and you’re already pulling this crap?!” Mr. Walker’s roar echoed through the villa.

“Quick, call the doctor!” Mrs. Walker clutched Cleo, her hands shaking. Blood seeped between her fingers as she tried to shift Cleo.

Frantic, Mr. Walker shot Riley an accusing glare while fumbling for his phone.

Riley just stood there, in complete shock, unable to process any of it.

Online, the live chat blew up.

“Wait, didn’t Cleo fall on her own?”

“I caught it on video—she grabbed Riley’s hand and pulled it towards her!”

“Don’t spread rumors! Riley totally pushed her! Look at her, she’s in shock, that’s guilt!”

“Can we review the footage? Something feels seriously off.”

“It all happened so fast. Nobody caught everything clearly…”

In the courtroom, the tension was electric.

The judge brought down the gavel. “Order! The court will now play the defendant’s memory for the time in question.”

As the screen flickered to life, Cleo rushed to the witness stand, her voice shrill. “You can’t show that! It violates privacy!”

Her carefully styled hair was a mess, like a spooked cat, and tears brimmed in her eyes. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Walker, shaking her head with desperate, pleading shakes. “Dad, Mom, you have to believe me. Riley pushed me. She really did…”

Mrs. Walker instinctively reached out to comfort her, but her hand froze midair. Her eyes were glued to the screen.

“Ha, give Cleo the Best Actress Oscar already,” someone quipped in the comments.

“Unreal, right?”

“We shouldn’t have just listened to her. Looks like we were played from the start.”

Riley’s brother suddenly raced to the judge’s bench, tugging at his shirt collar, his voice raw. “Riley Walker, say something! Now!”

Hearing his desperate plea, Riley turned slowly toward him. The truth was already out; what more was there to say?

The judge struck the gavel again. “After reviewing the memory trial, the charges against Riley Walker for intentionally harming Cleo Walker are hereby dismissed!”

With that gavel crack, Cleo slumped to the floor, completely deflated. Murmurs and pointing fingers rippled through the courtroom.

“Hard to believe someone so young could be this twisted.”

“Yeah, so manipulative. Without that memory playback, Riley would’ve been convicted in everyone’s eyes forever.”

The judge rapped the gavel three more times, and a calm, resonant voice echoed, “We now proceed with the third accusation.”

The courtroom fell deathly silent.

The judge, holding the case file, spoke with weight. “Riley Walker is accused of plagiarizing ‘Rising Phoenix,’ a piece originally by Emily Smith.”

The livestream erupted with orange messages—Emily’s signature support color.

“‘Rising Phoenix’ even made the holiday show. There’s no way there’s an injustice here.”

“The judges loved Riley’s performance, but it was clearly Emily’s concept!”

“I saw that competition live. Emily definitely performed first. Riley must’ve changed her routine backstage.”

“I was there too, I can back that up!”

Emily Smith sat tall at the witness stand, her voice crisp through the mic, “Your Honor, I have footage of Riley secretly filming my rehearsal.”

She shot a glance at Cleo, a knowing smirk curving her lips.

“And if I remember right, Riley even took over my dance studio later that day!”

“Cleo was there too.”

"I object!" Riley Walker stood up, her voice filled with certainty. "This choreography is my original creation. There's no plagiarism here."

The judge nodded to the bailiff, signaling for the memory recall to begin. "Please focus your recollection on the events related to this accusation."

The large screen flickered to life, showing a familiar scene.

Despite the late hour, the dance studio was brightly lit. Riley practiced her routine in front of the mirror, counting softly, "Five, six, seven, eight, turn…"

Her worn ballet shoes were proof of the countless hours she'd put in. So lost in her rehearsal, she didn't notice the two figures reflected in the mirror.

Emily Smith stood at the entrance, arms crossed, a smug expression on her face. "Riley," she said, her voice sharp, "this slot is mine."

Startled, Riley stopped the music, standing there awkwardly, not sure what to say. After a pause, she managed, "But according to the schedule, this time is mine."

The moment the words left her mouth, Riley pressed her lips together. Even though she'd stood her ground, a feeling of unease crept in.

"It was changed," Emily replied casually.

"What do you mean?"

Emily's smirk widened, an eyebrow raised. "Hasn't Cleo told you? I talked to the headmaster earlier, and he agreed to convert this studio into my private rehearsal space."

She waved her phone, showing a selfie of her and Cleo with the headmaster in his office.

Viewers watching the livestream started voicing their doubts.

"Isn't this a major misuse of power?"

"So what if she's buddies with the headmaster's daughter? It's just a dance studio."

"Exactly! If you're so privileged, go get your own studio!"

With no other option, Riley started packing her tote bag, forgetting the digital camera in the corner of the room.

Fast forward to the dance competition two weeks later.

Backstage, Riley adjusted her headpiece in front of the makeup mirror.

Emily's "Rising Phoenix" opened the show, and as the music played, Riley froze. That was the music she'd composed over two long months—how could it be in Emily's performance?

Riley barely remembered sitting through the whole competition.

When the host announced, "Next up is Riley Walker's 'The Butterfly Effect,'" whispers spread through the crowd.

As soon as the music started, the judges exchanged glances.

"Isn't this music identical to Emily's routine?"

"Maybe the music is similar, but the choreography could be different."

But as Riley danced, it became clear—her performance was about 80% the same as Emily's!

Outside the memory projection, Emily slammed the table. "This video is fake! It's been doctored!"

Meanwhile, the judge pulled up the school's system records. "According to the studio booking records, the slot from 8 to 10 p.m. belongs to Riley Walker."

"So what?!" Emily's sharp voice echoed through the courtroom.

The screen shifted to another scene.

It was the school's surveillance footage.

In the empty studio, a figure took the memory card out of the camera.

Cleo's voice came from off-screen, "Hurry up, quit messing around!"

Emily's usually perfect hair was now disheveled, her composure completely unraveling.

She shouted, "This is AI-generated! I never did that!"

That kind of suspicion was expected when gathering evidence.

As Emily made her claim, two spectrograms appeared on the screen.

An expert explained through a microphone, "The voice analysis shows a 99.8% match with Emily Smith's voice."

"This confirms that Emily Smith was directly involved."

"No, that's impossible!"

As Emily struggled to keep it together, the bailiff quickly restrained her.

The judge struck his gavel.

"Order in the courtroom; disruptions will not be tolerated."

"Failure to comply will result in contempt of court!"

The livestream viewers went wild.

"So much for Emily's big act on national TV. Turns out her so-called talent was stolen."

"Quit the industry! Quit the industry!"

"Apologize! Emily, you've been lying to us for so long!"

"I was too quick to judge Riley so harshly."

The gavel's resounding echo silenced the courtroom.

Most thought the live trial was about to wrap up.

But then the prosecution's attorney stood up, waving a set of documents.

He addressed the judge calmly, "Your Honor, the prosecution moves to file an additional charge."

"Riley Walker is accused of repeatedly stealing private property from Cleo Walker, including a blue diamond necklace valued in the millions!"

The comment section on the stream exploded.

"They're stirring up drama again? When's this gonna end?"

"Now they're trying to trash her name?"

"They're hell-bent on ruining Riley Walker!"

"I've had enough of this family—they just won't stop."

A flash of shock crossed Riley Walker's eyes.

"I didn't..."

Sean Walker looked at her pale face and let out a scornful chuckle. "Still pretending? You were caught red-handed with Cleo's necklace. I remember you begging us not to call the police. Did you forget that already?"

"Objection!"

The defense lawyer shot to his feet.

His gaze locked onto Sean Walker, and he said firmly, "Mr. Walker, this courtroom is not a place for personal vendettas!"

The judge raised his hand for silence, then turned to Riley Walker.

"If you undergo another memory trial, it might be too much for your body…"

He paused, looking at her with concern.

"Do you consent to another memory trial?"

She closed her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek, and took a deep breath. "...I consent."

The screen lit up again.

The memory scene was at a celebration party.

The Walker mansion was ablaze with lights, Cleo Walker in a Victorian-style gown, a blue diamond necklace sparkling around her neck.

Holding a champagne glass, she glided over to where Riley stood, clearly not interested in the festivities.

"Why's my little sister hiding back here?" Cleo showed off the necklace, placing a hand on her neck.

Riley gripped her dress, head down, silent.

Cleo raised her voice, "Oh, I heard you topped the class again? Such a waste…"

Leaning closer, she whispered, "I only ranked tenth, yet Mom and Dad gifted me this entire blue diamond set. And you? No matter how well you do…"

She paused, a cruel smile forming, "You still end up with nothing but longing!"