Chapter 5

The cameras were rolling.

In the formal breakfast room, the morning light streamed in, catching the dust motes dancing in the air. Cordelia sat opposite Case, a plate of untouched pancakes between them. The silence was awkward, amplified by the presence of Kenna, Forrest, and the sound guy huddled in the corner.

Case, seemingly oblivious to the crew, pushed the small pitcher of maple syrup closer to her side of the table. It was a small, quiet gesture, but Forrest's camera zoomed in, capturing it. A tiny moment of connection in a sea of tension.

Just as Cordelia was about to thank him, the doorbell chimed.

A moment later, Annalise Maxwell swept into the room, a dazzling smile on her face and a beautifully wrapped gift in her hands. She was dressed in a pristine white dress, the picture of sisterly purity.

"Cordelia, darling!" she exclaimed, loud enough for every microphone to pick it up. She rushed forward and enveloped Cordelia in a stiff, air-kiss embrace. "I was so worried about you, all alone in this big house. I felt it was my duty as your older sister to be here, to support you."

She turned to the camera, her eyes wide with manufactured sincerity. Then she placed the gift on the table. "Just a little something to redecorate. To help you forget the past."

With a flourish, she began to unwrap it herself. It was a large, leather-bound photo album.

She opened it to a random page, her expression a perfect pantomime of shock. "Oh, dear! Silly me. I must have brought the wrong album."

The page was a full-spread photo of a younger Cordelia, laughing, wrapped in the arms of Chace Mack on a sailboat. They were kissing, the picture of idyllic young love.

"These are memories from... a happier time, I suppose," Annalise said, her voice dripping with false sympathy.

The room went dead silent. It was a declaration of war. A public shaming, gift-wrapped and delivered for prime time. Every camera lens in the room swung to Cordelia, waiting for the explosion. The old Cordelia would have screamed, thrown the album, created the exact scene Annalise was hoping for.

But Cordelia just looked at the photo, her expression unreadable. Then she slowly lifted her gaze to meet her stepsister's triumphant one.

And she smiled. A small, serene smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Thank you, Annalise," she said, her voice calm and even. She took the album, her fingers tracing the edge of the photograph. "You're right. It's important to remember the mistakes of the past, so you don't repeat them."

She didn't close the book. Instead, she turned slightly, so both she and the main camera could see it.

"This man, Chace Mack," she said, her voice clear and steady, "was a significant part of my past. A foolish, painful part that I've learned from."

She then looked directly at her son, her expression softening. "And he is the reason I almost lost the most important person in my life."

Annalise's smile froze on her face. This was not how this was supposed to go. Cordelia had taken her grenade, disarmed it, and handed it back to her.

In the corner, Kenna pumped a fist in the air, whispering "Yes!" to her assistant. This was television gold.

Forrest's camera held tight on Cordelia's face. There was no anger, no hysteria. Just a profound, weary sadness that was more compelling than any tantrum.

And then, the moment that would define the scene.

Case, who had been watching the entire exchange with his unnervingly intelligent eyes, reached across the table. His small hand, fragile and pale, landed on top of his mother's. He gently squeezed her fingers.

It was the first time he had willingly touched her in over a year.

The unexpected warmth, the silent, unwavering support, sent a jolt through Cordelia. Tears pricked her eyes, hot and sudden. She squeezed his hand back, a silent thank you.

The image of mother and son, hands clasped over a photo of the man who had nearly destroyed them, was devastatingly powerful.

Annalise looked like she had swallowed poison.

In his office, Chandler watched the scene unfold on the live feed. He had to admit, if this was a performance, it was masterful. She had spun a moment of humiliation into a narrative of redemption. She'd even coached Case to play his part perfectly. But when he saw his son's small hand reach for hers, a sharp, unwelcome pang went through his chest. The gesture looked... real. So real it made him hate the flicker of doubt it ignited within him.

During a break for the crew to reset, Annalise found a quiet corner and furiously typed a message to Chace.

She's tougher than I thought. We need to up the ante.

Cordelia, excusing herself to the powder room, sent a message of her own to Sloane.

Start digging into Annalise's charity foundation. Every dollar. I want to know where it all goes.

When filming resumed, Kenna gathered them in the living room. "Okay, for our next segment," she announced with a bright smile, "we have a special guest. A family therapist, Dr. Evans, will be joining you for a private session."

Cordelia's blood went cold. She looked at Annalise.

A triumphant, predatory glint shone in her stepsister's eyes. The ambush had only just begun.