Her sister threw an industrial chemical peel into her face for viral fame, but when the video went viral, a leaked group chat proved her own mother helped buy the acid.

The trial took a sensational turn on the second week when Sibil’s legal counsel filed an emergency motion to sever her defense from Fallon’s.

My mother was about to throw her favorite daughter under the bus to save herself.

When Sibil took the stand in her own defense, she wore a simple black dress and held a rosary. She looked every bit the tragic, betrayed mother.

"Mrs. Ward," her private attorney asked smoothly, "did you know that the liquid in that glass was a dangerous chemical peel?"

"No! Absolute not!" Sibil cried, pulling out a handkerchief. "I was horrified! I am a mother! I love both my daughters equally! I truly believed it was just a cocktail spill!"

I sat in the gallery, watching this masterclass in narcissism with absolute detachment.

"And why did you try to wipe your daughter Sloan’s face with a napkin?"

"I was in shock!" Sibil sobbed. "I saw my child bleeding and I panicked! I wanted to clean her! I didn't know I was hurting her! Sloan misconstrued my maternal panic as cruelty because she has always had a distant, cold personality!"

She was lying under oath without blinking an eye.

Prosecutor Jenkins stood up for cross-examination. She walked slowly toward the witness stand, holding a thick stack of printed documents.

"Mrs. Ward," Jenkins began softly. "You state under oath that you love both your daughters equally?"

"With all my heart," Sibil said, wiping away non-existent tears.

"Then can you explain this text message sent from your personal iPhone to Fallon Ward twelve hours after the attack, while Sloan was sitting in the emergency room?"

Jenkins projected the text message onto the courtroom screen:

Sibil: 'Do not delete the raw footage from the backup drive. Even if Sloan goes to the police, we can sell the exclusive commentary rights to TMZ for at least $100,000. Keep your mouth shut and let Miles handle the press.'

The gallery went completely wild. Reporters started typing furiously on their laptops.

Sibil went dead white. "I... that was taken out of context—"

"Out of context?" Jenkins snapped, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Your eldest daughter was suffering second-degree chemical burns in a hospital, and you were negotiating exclusive commentary rights with tabloid outlets!"

"I was trying to cover Fallon's legal expenses!" Sibil shouted, losing her composure entirely.

"By exploiting the horrific disfigurement of your other child?" Jenkins asked, turning to face the jury directly.

Sibil looked toward Fallon, hoping for support. But Fallon was glaring at her with pure, venomous hatred. The toxic bond between the mother and her favorite child had officially shattered under the weight of criminal liability.

"I have no further questions for this witness," Jenkins said, turning her back on Sibil.

As Sibil stepped down from the stand, she looked directly at me, her eyes pleading. "Sloan... please... tell them..."