How Did Ratings Change After Young Sheldon Actress Dies Coverage?

In her five years of marriage, Elsie loved her husband, Oswald, with all her heart. Even when their life wasn't happy. But now the man she loves so much is looking at her with a hateful look, slandering her without proof. "Tess is awake, she told me everything! You fu*king murderer!" Tess, Oswald's beloved woman, and if she hadn't had the accident, it would have been Tess, not her, who would have become Oswald's wife. And now Tess was awake. Her dream had awakened instead. She didn't want to have to explain. She didn't want to have to go through countless detentions and begging... Elsie looked at Oswald, who was still indifferent, and said, "Let's get a divorce..." Oswald doesn't believe that the greedy Elsie can give up her life as a rich madam, and he assumes that she will come back and beg him for money. Until Elsie's true identity is revealed and everyone is stunned...

I was locked in a fridge for 40 days while the uncensored photos of me spread like wildfire across the internet. In the face of the salacious rumors about me, my mother reacted by reposting them. Then, she turned to warn my sister, "Look at how disgusting the entertainment industry is. Don't join it, alright? Stay home and inherit your sister's assets instead. My dearest daughter must be innocent and pure, unlike her." She forgot. She forgot I only joined this 'disgusting' industry to pay for her cancer treatment.

My younger sister, Lila James, had a heart attack. The doctors tried their best, but she died. On the day we buried her, the men she had been involved with showed up. One was an unhinged lawyer, and another one was a powerful heir from Jovaris. Yet another one was a messed-up top celebrity. When they heard that Lila was dead, they lost it. They tried to dig her out and torture her. I blocked their way and begged them, “She’s gone! If you need someone to blame, take it out on me!” That was the moment I became Lila’s stand-in. They tortured me in every way they could think of. They beat me until my skin tore open and forced me to film humiliating videos. I somehow escaped and tried to bring them to justice. The unhinged lawyer threatened to ruin my life! The powerful heir used his influence to shut every door in my face. The messed-up top celebrity leaked the videos and claimed I had seduced him. I became the center of a national scandal, and my reputation was irreparably damaged. My parents even published a statement and cut all ties with me. I went home to confront them. When I reached outside their door, I heard Lila’s voice. She sounded immensely pleased. “Mom, Dad, your plan to fake my death saved me! I can finally get away from those lunatics. “Good thing we had Yara! Otherwise, I would’ve been the one in all these scandals.” I broke down. I rushed into the house. I was ready to drag Lila to hell with me, but my parents killed me first. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lila had her heart attack.

The doctors said it was over—stage four, nothing left to fight. I had three days, max. I signed the organ donor papers myself. If I was gonna die, at least someone else could get a second shot. Told my family I was sick. But my so-called sister—the doctor—shrugged it off like I was making it up. She convinced them I was losing it, not dying. My parents and fiancé fell for it. Handed me over like she was some hero. She wasn't. She pushed me closer to the end. And when I finally died, the same people who wouldn't listen cried like they hadn't let it happen.

I begged Dylan Leveson three hundred and four times to take my dying dad on one last trip out to sea. Guess what? He bailed. I stood on the shore, watching the warmth fade from my dad's body, breath by breath—alone—while Dylan played Romeo in the highlands. Millie Stone—his forever flame—posted a cozy little selfie: [Far from the world, as long as I have you.] I accidentally hit like. Dylan popped up instantly. [How many times have I told you to leave Millie alone? Can't control yourself? We're getting a divorce!] Oh, the classic divorce threat. I'd lost count. [Cool. Divorce it is.]

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.