The woman holding the child snapped, "Honey, who is she?"
Winston panicked. He shoved the woman lightly toward the door. "Go inside. I need to talk to her."
The woman didn't move. "Answer me. Who is she?"
Lily said, voice shaking, "I'm Winston's girlfriend."
The woman's eyes widened. "Bullshit. I'm his wife. We're married. What kind of man has a 'girlfriend'?"
Winston barked, "Both of you—stop!"
Lily stared at him like she didn't recognize his face anymore. "When did you get married? You told me you'd take me home to meet your parents at the end of the year."
The wife turned on Winston, furious. "What is this? Is this trash the side piece you keep outside?"
Lily snapped back, "Who are you calling a side piece? You're the one who looks like the other woman. I'm letting everyone in this stream see what you're like."
The wife lunged. "Still filming? I'll smash that phone right out of your hand, you little—"
A sharp slap cracked.
The phone hit the floor.
The screen went black.
The screaming continued, muffled and chaotic, but Maeve had already lost interest.
Her viewer count had surged past nine hundred.
Mr. L, who'd been there from the beginning, typed: "That... wasn't acting, was it?"
Maeve replied evenly, "Until she's thirty-two, every man she falls for will look like love, and turn out like trouble. Her real match shows up in July of her thirty-second year. She's the type who loses herself in love—but she's not completely unlucky. This will change her."
Chat immediately pushed back.
"Scripted."
"Definitely scripted."
"Agree. Scripted."

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