Reborn Heiress: Taking Back What Is Rightfully Hers!
Chapter 439: Mental Breakdown

Chapter 439: Mental Breakdown

All the City’s Advertising Screens Went Black, and the Live Broadcast Ended.

However, fans in S City were in an uproar, flooding Tiffany’s Twitter with angry comments.

"OMG! Is that Tiffany from the billboard? Is it really her?"

"Is she really Hannah? Or is someone trying to smear her on purpose?"

"Smear her? She ran away like that—it’s a clear sign of guilt!"

"Exactly! If she’s not Hannah, why doesn’t she agree to the DNA test with Ella and Kevin?"

"Who’s Kevin?"

"Ella’s brother, the one who stabbed her with a knife back in the day!"

"So violent! That disgusting woman is actually Tiffany? My eyes must be deceiving me!"

"Tiffany, how could you admit to framing Ella? I’m so disappointed in you!"

"Liar! Such a manipulative woman! I can’t believe you deceived us like this!"

"And then you dared to call us ’dumb fans’? You’re disgusting! So fake!"

"Rotten woman, go to hell!"

"Someone like this won an award for Best Actress? The world is terrifying!"

"I feel bad for Ella. She just came back to the country, and now she’s under attack. If she’s not careful, she could lose her baby!"

In just a few minutes, the number of comments skyrocketed by tens of thousands. Tiffany’s influence as an award-winning actress was undeniable, but now that her true colors had been exposed—and with her calling her fans "dumb"—a fan revolt was inevitable.

After fleeing Ella’s hospital room in a panic, Tiffany glanced out the window at the reporters who had nearly surrounded the hospital’s entrance. Her face went pale as a sheet.

Biting her lip, Tiffany ducked into the bathroom and retrieved a nurse’s uniform and mask she’d brought with her. It was her only way to escape the hospital unnoticed.

Once dressed, she cautiously opened the bathroom door—only to find herself swarmed by frantic reporters.

"Tiffany, can you explain the statements on the electronic billboards?"

"Tiffany, did you admit to framing and smearing Miss Davis? Is it true?"

"Tiffany, are you Hannah? If not, why won’t you agree to Mrs. Nelson’s DNA test?"

The reporters pushed in, blocking her escape route entirely.

Her heavily made-up face was filled with panic. Everything she’d tried to hide had just been exposed!

Tiffany’s temples throbbed painfully, her head buzzing as if filled with an unbearable noise. Everything felt chaotic and overwhelming.

After all, she *was* Hannah. And Hannah had a history of schizophrenia. The mental stress was too much for her—her world was spiraling out of control.

"Get away from me! Get away!" she screamed. "I’m Tiffany! The real, innocent Tiffany! I didn’t frame her—I didn’t!"

Her shrill voice pierced the air, but the reporters’ cameras and microphones stayed firmly focused on her, leaving her no escape.

"Get out of my way! You shameless bastards, move!" Tiffany’s composure finally shattered as she erupted in a fit of rage.

Yet the reporters refused to relent, until she let out a piercing scream and collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Startled, the reporters quickly backed away, too frightened to block her anymore. If Tiffany’s condition worsened, they feared they’d be held responsible.

When a nurse revived Tiffany, she found herself lying on a narrow hospital bed. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

"Are you alright, Miss Fox?" a nurse asked softly, noticing that she’d regained consciousness.

"I-I’m fine..." Tiffany croaked, her throat dry as sandpaper. As memories of the earlier chaos flooded back, she couldn’t help but shudder.

The nurse, ever professional, nodded coolly. "That’s good. You can leave now. The reporters are gone."

The reporters, having failed to gather any substantial information, finally dispersed. Everyone knew full well that Tiffany was simply Hannah after undergoing plastic surgery. None of them dared to press further, fearing the potential consequences if her mental illness flared up. No one wanted to risk facing legal repercussions, especially not from LXL.

Tiffany gasped for breath, jumped off the bed, grabbed her purse, and hurriedly left the hospital.

Her driver was still waiting at the back entrance.

When she reached the rear door, she found no reporters lurking around to block her way.

The driver, dozing off in the car, snapped awake when Tiffany opened the door. Perking up, he greeted her with a smile, "Tiffany, your phone’s been ringing nonstop. I didn’t dare answer it for you."

Tiffany’s eyes were filled with a venomous hatred as she snapped, "I pay you such a high salary, and you’re useless! You can’t even answer a damn phone for me?"

She had deliberately left her phone in the car to avoid any risk of eavesdropping or bugging while visiting Ella in the hospital.

However, this precaution backfired—she’d missed crucial notifications from her informants during the chaos.

The driver, normally a smooth talker, was taken aback by Tiffany’s explosive temper. In a low mutter, he grumbled, "It’s just money. Otherwise, who would want to drive around such a fake woman..."

Tiffany ignored him, snatching her phone as soon as she sat down in the car. Unlocking the screen, she was greeted by a barrage of missed calls.

There were ten calls from the mysterious man and over twenty from Michelle, her agent. On top of that, countless calls from unknown numbers were still lighting up the screen.

Fuming, Tiffany declined all the calls and quickly switched her phone to airplane mode, cutting off any further interruptions.

Then she noticed a flood of messages from Michelle in her chat app:

"Tiffany, where are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone? Every electronic billboard in S City... they’re live-streaming you and Ella!"

"Damn it, Tiffany, pick up! Shut up already! You’re being live-streamed!"

"What the hell are you doing, Tiffany? Are you insane? Are you trying to destroy yourself?"

"Tiffany, answer your phone!"

Among these, there were countless messages from fans, all of them vicious and far more venomous than anything Ella had ever received:

"Tiffany, you disgusting fake! I can’t believe I ever supported you. Ugh!"

"Some goddess you are. More like a lunatic. You’re actually that filthy Hannah!"

"Rotten woman, just die already. I curse you to hell!"

"You liar! How dare you deceive us like this? May you die a horrible death, torn to pieces, and reincarnate as a beast for eternity!"

Some comments were so obscene they made Tiffany’s shoulders tremble with rage. She clutched her phone tightly, her head pounding as if it were about to explode.

She recognized this feeling—it was the onset of one of her episodes.

"No, I can’t lose control. Hannah, you can get through this. Breathe... deeply..."

Closing her eyes, she took long, steady breaths, trying to conjure the image of an indomitable heart within herself. No matter how much turmoil or adversity the world threw at her, she would endure.

As long as Ella was alive, Tiffany couldn’t afford to fall apart.