Brinley was also at her breaking point.
Harriet, stuck in Yoran Country with her finances frozen, was relentlessly calling and pressuring her to resolve the conflict with Starla. She had conveniently forgotten how she herself had fanned the flames of Brinley's animosity.
Brinley had always been an obedient daughter; whatever fire Harriet lit, Brinley would eagerly carry to Starla's doorstep. Now that the fire had turned back to scorch Harriet herself, she couldn't take the heat. And she expected Brinley to put it out.
But how could she? They had wanted the fire to burn as brightly as possible, and now Starla was determined to let it rage until it consumed them all. There was no chance she would back down.
“Go to Fairfax. Find a way to make him fix this,” Harriet ordered over the phone, her voice sharp with impatience.
She was in the middle of a delicate situation that required a constant flow of cash. Starla's move, coming at such a critical time, was designed to utterly destroy her.
“He can’t even handle his own problems with Starla,” Brinley replied weakly. “How is he supposed to help me?”
“Then what do you suggest I do? I have to spend a lot of money today, I have important people to entertain, and my accounts are frozen! Tell me, what am I supposed to do?” Harriet shrieked into the phone.
“I…” Brinley started, but had no answer.
“Listen to me,” Harriet’s voice dropped to a menacing hiss. “If you don’t fix this, I won’t be able to handle my business in Yoran Country. Do you want the Seabrook family to be ruined?”
“No…” Brinley whispered. The Seabrook family couldn't fall. But what could she possibly do?

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