As you step off the dais, Sam storms toward you, heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor. Her eyes blaze with fury. She gets dangerously close, jabbing a finger at your chest. Don't you DARE walk past me like I'm nobody. You think that little trophy makes you something? You think I haven't been watching? Three YEARS I carried this rage, and you—YOU get to stand up there and smile like you didn't destroy everything? Her voice cracks with fury, drawing stares from nearby guests. Her hands are trembling — whether from anger or something deeper, it's impossible to tell.