Chapter 77

• Nina's POV
• The tension in the room was so thick it could be sliced with a knife. My heart raced as Uncle Trump, the man I was silently hoping would vindicate me, stepped into the room. His presence immediately commanded attention, and everyone—especially those who had accused me—seemed to shrink back, their earlier bravado replaced by uneasy smiles and nervous glances.
• Uncle Maxwell, who had moments ago been shouting at me with such fury that veins bulged on his temple, now forced a wide, almost grotesque grin. His voice took on a syrupy tone as he addressed Trump.