Maureen paced her room, her heels clicking against the marble floors like a countdown.
The call with Rhea still echoed in her head—every detail, every claim. Celeste wasn't real. Not the real heir. Not the girl they all believed she was.
It sounded insane.
But it felt right.
And now, after seeing the panic flicker across Celeste's face at the cafe, Maureen was certain. That look wasn't confusion—it was fear.
She smirked.
"Let's see how long your little show lasts now."
Maureen walked to her desk, unlocking the top drawer. Inside, a slim file marked with the family crest—sealed years ago. She slid it out and flipped it open.
The real Celeste's childhood medical records. Immunization dates. Blood type. DNA markers.
She'd kept it out of spite once—proof that she knew everything about the girl everyone loved more than her.
Now it would serve a better purpose.
She tapped her nails on the desk, thinking.
To prove an identity, all she needed was a comparison.
But she couldn't just drag Celeste to a clinic. That would raise suspicion.
No—she needed something small. Something unnoticed. A hairbrush. A toothbrush. A glass.
And she knew exactly who could get it for her.
Maureen picked up her phone and texted Rhea:
"Get me a sample. Hair. Toothbrush. Anything.
I'll handle the rest."
The reply came quickly.
"You'll get it. But I want to be there when the truth explodes."
Maureen smiled.
"Oh, don't worry. You'll get front-row seats."
Because once the results were in, once the world saw the truth, there'd be no going back.
And Maureen would finally get her revenge—delivered in cold, undeniable science.