Election night looms in Port Charles, and Laura Collins isn’t just nervous — she’s on the defensive.

From the moment she whispers to her daughter “tonight could make or break Port Charles,” you sense the weight of the moment.

Her mayoral campaign, once confident and steady, now teeters on the brink.

The vote on Measure C has made hidden alliances visible and exposed old vulnerabilities.

What Laura considered solid support now trembles.

Her opponents see the opening. Jenz Sidwell circles with calculated intent, ready to exploit any falter.

Laura’s long-standing association with the town’s power players, especially the ties to Sonny Corinthos, is under new scrutiny.

Voters whisper: is Laura the independent, public-spirited leader she appears to be — or a cog in someone else’s machine?
Meanwhile, Laura’s internal team scrambles. Damage control meetings. Reassurances to her daughter. But each moment of reassurance seems to underline fear.

On the surface she stands firm, but beneath the smile lurks doubt that maybe this night won’t go her way.
For Laura, a single misstep—an ill-timed answer, a leaked document, a hint of disloyalty—could shift everything. If she loses support now, the narrative rewrites: she becomes the defeated incumbent, vulnerable, outdated. Port Charles could move on without her.
When the results come in, it won’t just be politics at stake. It’ll be Laura’s identity, her legacy, her place in a city she’s fought so hard to serve. The power lies in the thin lines: trust, loyalty, public perception. And right now, all of them are cracking.