The flashes started the moment she stepped onto the stage. Bright, stinging lights from every direction like a firing squad of cameras.
Regina didn't flinch.
She walked to the podium in her black belted coatdress which was Chanel, vintage, sleek. Her hair was pinned up, lips painted a deep shade of red that dared the vultures to come closer. The hall was packed with journalists, bloggers, reporters, gossip columnists. All of them hungry for what she might say.
Claire stood by the side, her tablet in hand and tension in every line of her face.
Regina cleared her throat.
"Thank you all for coming."
The room quieted, but not completely. There were always murmurs. Always rustling papers and whispered suspicions.
"I'm here today," she said, voice clear and slow, "because I'm tired."
