Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by murmurs.
“Damn—it’s true. Ethan really does hate Lily Anderson.”
“If it hadn’t been for her back then, Ethan and Sophia would’ve been together already—maybe even with kids by now. Of course he hates her.”
“Still, making her strip if she loses—that’s brutal.”
“What’s the problem? She brought this on herself. Of all people to provoke, she chose Miss Brooks. Serves her right.”
I had no interest in engaging with them—much less in humoring Ethan Carter by playing some pathetic little game.
“Sorry, I don’t have time. My husband will be here to pick me up soon.”
A few people snorted in derision.
“Lily Anderson, if you can’t play, just admit it. Why bother lying?”
“Exactly. You’ve been gone for five years—how could you possibly be married? And now you claim you have a husband?”
“If you really were married, why wouldn’t you bring him to a gala like this?”
Sophia Brooks put on a mask of kindness.
“Sis, I know you’re upset and still blame me for taking Ethan, but even so, you shouldn’t lie.”
“I’m not lying.”
But I saw no need to explain myself.
In less than ten minutes, Daniel Hughes would be here anyway.
Still, my refusal to elaborate only made them press harder.