Chapter 6: From Scandal to Spotlight
After giving my statement at the police station, I saw my manager waiting outside. Before I could get to the van, a swarm of reporters surrounded us.
Microphones and cameras shoved in my face. I blinked, overwhelmed, as questions flew from every direction.
Before this show, I was a scandal-ridden, semi-canceled celebrity. Now, thanks to this incident, I was suddenly at the top of the charts.
It was surreal. The same people who’d trashed me online were now calling me a hero. Fame is weird.
Reporters bombarded me:
“Lila, do you have anything to say about the haunted house livestream?”
“Is everything you and Savannah said in the secret room true?”
“About Carter—do you have any comment?”
“Did Carter really harass you and then try to ruin your reputation?”
…
I tried to keep my cool, but my head spun. I’d never been on this side of the story before.
The questions came so fast I couldn’t keep up. In the past, I’d avoided answering—without proof, no one would believe me. But after the livestream, some people started to believe, digging up old details.
I saw sympathetic faces in the crowd—something I never thought I’d see again. Maybe things were finally changing.
Since I’d already spoken, staying silent now would look like I was chasing clout. So I grabbed a mic and addressed it head-on:
“Everything I said in that room was true. I have no evidence, but everyone should be responsible for their actions and words. Investigate all you want—I have nothing to hide. The person who should be worried isn’t me.”
I let the words hang in the air, hoping they’d land. For once, I felt powerful.
I wanted to dramatically toss the mic and leave, but the crowd blocked my way. Suddenly, I heard Savannah’s voice. She’d come to give her statement too. After what we’d been through, we exchanged a smile. She shot me a look, then turned to answer the reporters—her revelations were even juicier. The reporters flocked to her, giving me a chance to slip into the van.
I ducked my head, grateful for the escape. Savannah could handle the spotlight for a while.
Once inside, she texted me:
“I hesitated at first. But anyone who steps up to protect me in danger deserves my trust. So you’ve got a friend in me!”
I grinned, feeling lighter than I had in years. Maybe this nightmare had a silver lining after all.
Nice. I’d gained a friend and felt pretty happy about it. Not bad for a disaster.
I sent back a string of heart emojis and a promise to buy her dinner. We’d earned it.
Finally free from the reporters, I just wanted a hot bath and a good night’s sleep—to forget everything that happened in the mansion.
I filled the tub with bubbles, cranked up some Taylor Swift, and let myself relax for the first time in days. Sleep came easy, thank God.
But when I woke up, Instagram was in chaos. The things Savannah and I said, the final livestream moment when the cloth was lifted… it was all anyone could talk about.
Every account I followed was posting clips, theories, and memes. My follower count exploded overnight.
Carter, once scandal-free, was now trending for all the wrong reasons. Other small-time actresses came forward, saying he’d given them hotel keys too. Some had saved the evidence, just in case.
Screenshots, receipts, and old messages flooded social media. The tide was turning fast.













