Chapter 13 - The Morning After
The next morning, the city woke up to a media earthquake.
Every major newspaper, gossip blog, and financial network carried the same front-page story. THE STOLEN TWIN: HARTLEY EMPIRE BUILT ON DECADES OF LIES. HEIRESS SLAPS LONG-LOST SISTER AT 30TH BIRTHDAY BASH.
Isabella sat in the massive dining room of her penthouse, untouched coffee turning cold in front of her. She stared at the tablet screen, reading every excruciating detail. The stock of Hartley Enterprises had plummeted twelve percent at the opening bell. The board of directors was demanding an emergency meeting.
Her phone buzzed constantly. Evelyn had left six voicemails, alternating between demanding Isabella cut ties with the "imposter" and ordering her to issue a joint press release claiming Amelia was a mentally unstable distant relative.
Isabella deleted the voicemails without listening to the end.
Across the city, in a cramped, drafty apartment above a noisy laundromat, Amelia sat on a worn-out sofa. Her cheek was bruised purple and blue. She held a mug of cheap tea, looking at the silver pocket watch resting on her small coffee table. Her phone, an outdated pre-paid model, rang.
It was an unknown number, but she knew who it was.
May you like
"Hello?" Amelia answered.
"It's me," Isabella’s voice came through, sounding exhausted but determined. "I'm downstairs."
