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Their dresses were wrinkled.
Amanda looked worse — red-eyed, shaking in a corner.
Her dream wedding was ruined.
She'd offended the one person she needed to impress.
Her future was over: no marriage, massive debt, jail time.
She'd lost everything.
Brenda and the others stood silently.
When they saw me enter with Michael, they perked up.
"Jessica, you're here! Are you okay?" Brenda smiled.
"Thanks to you, not dead."
She'd been vicious—I still had bruises.
Brenda forced a smile. "Jessica, it was a misunderstanding. I'm old—can't you forgive me?"
I almost laughed.
She showed no remorse.
I said coldly, "Let the police handle it."
The officers tallied the damages: $360 million.
Everyone gasped.
"That's impossible! How does she have that kind of money?"
"She must have dirty money! Her mom left, her dad died young—it has to be illegal!"
The bridesmaids tried to deflect.
The officer glared. "What's impossible? She's a successful investor and philanthropist. Her humility isn't a weakness—it's why we respect her."
"The damages alone are enough for jail time. Instead of slandering her, worry about how you'll pay."
The number was impossible for them.
They couldn't pay, so they complained.
"You're rich—why are you being so petty?"
"Can't you let it go?"
"I thought rich people were supposed to be generous."
They said it like it was my fault.
Like my wealth meant I should excuse their behavior.
I rolled my eyes. "This is your karma."
They'd been cruel and violent.
I wouldn't back down.
They panicked.
They turned on Amanda.
"This is your fault! You made us do it!"
"You pay for it!"
"We were just helping you! This has nothing to do with us!"
They blamed her.
