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Three individuals were escorted out of the club by the police, attracting the attention of passersby who quickly whipped out their phones to capture the scene. The spotlight was on them as whispers and murmurs filled the air.
“Look, isn’t that the woman from that TV show?” someone exclaimed in surprise.
“How can a public figure act like this?” critiqued another.
“Is that woman a celebrity too? She’s gorgeous,” someone pointed at Camila.
Erica was standing close to Camila. She overheard and quickly pointed towards the back. “Stop filming! We’re ordinary people with rights to our images. That person over there is the celebrity.”
Tabitha quickly covered her face with her hands, glaring at Erica, wishing she could silence her.
As the police car started, the shrill sound of the siren pierced the night, echoing ominously–a clear sign this night was far from over.
In the police station, the three girls sat in a cramped room facing a stern officer. Camila cooperated with the questioning, recounting the events clearly without much emotional disturbance.
Tabitha clasped her hands tightly, her inner turmoil evident. As she responded to the officer’s questions, she started off defensively, continually justifying herself.
“It was just an accidental bump!” Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.
The club manager provided surveillance footage, proving Tabitha had initiated the conflict.
“I’ve reviewed the surveillance footage. Are you still going to deny it?” the officer stared into her eyes.
“I had a bit of a drink, and then she bumped into me. Maybe I got confused.” Tabitha’s tone softened.
“Do you realize your mistake now?” the officer remarked.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry.” Tabitha nodded earnestly, feigning understanding.
“Do you folks need to have injuries examined?” inquired the officer.
All three shook their heads.
“Write up a statement of reflection each, get a family member to vouch for you, and you can leave,” instructed the officer.
“Can we avoid contacting our families?” Camila frowned, not wanting to worry her mother.
Do
you
have someone else who can vouch for you?”
“Me!” Erica raised her hand.
“Do you even know your own situation? And you want to vouch for others?”
“My family isn’t around.” Camila explained.
The officer glanced at her interview record and suggested, “Your supervisor can come and vouch for you then.”
Camila looked troubled and hesitantly made a phone call to Alan.
After they wrote their statements, Erica’s mother was the first to arrive at the station. She entered the mediation room, gently caressed her daughter’s head, and carefully examined the bruises on her neck with concern, “Does it hurt?”
Hugging her mother’s waist, Erica whimpered, “It hurts.”
“You only realize it now, you silly girl,” Janet firmly patted Erica’s back.
Releasing her daughter, Janet turned to pull Camila in for a closer look. “Darling, let me see.”
“I’m fine. It’s my fault Erica got dragged into this,” Camila said, head lowered.
“Silly child, let me give you a hug,” Janet embraced Camila, then turned to the officer, “Can I take them both?”
The officer shook his head.
“I’ve contacted my supervisor, and he’ll be here soon. Don’t worry about me. Take Erica home,” Camila reassured.
“We’ll wait with you,” Janet held Camila’s hand.
Tabitha glanced at them and scoffed.
At that moment, a man stormed into the station, slamming his hand on the counter, “What have you done to my daughter!”
The man’s eyes were filled with fury. He was overweight with a puffy face and wore a large gold chain, looking every bit the part of a nouveau riche.
“Sir, please calm down and stop shouting. What’s your daughter’s name?” the desk officer looked up with a warning glare.