Chapter 2 - The Weight of the Watch
In the frantic, brightly lit corridors of the hotel's catering kitchen, the world was a stark contrast to the gilded ballroom. Here, it was a chaos of shouting chefs, clattering silverware, and the sharp scent of roasted meats and truffles.
Amelia stood by the stainless-steel prep tables, adjusting the stiff white collar of her catering uniform. Her hands, rough from years of hard work, trembled slightly as she smoothed down her black apron. Inside the deep pocket of that apron sat a heavy, scratched silver pocket watch. It felt like an anchor dragging her down, yet simultaneously, it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
"Table four needs more champagne, Amelia! Hurry up!" the catering manager barked, pushing a heavy silver tray loaded with crystal flutes into her hands.
Amelia nodded, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "Yes, Chef."
She took a deep breath, the air tasting of anxiety and adrenaline. She had not taken this shift by accident. For the past three weeks, ever since her adoptive father had passed away in a small, sterile hospice room, she had been meticulously planning this moment. On his deathbed, he had pressed the silver watch into her palm and choked out a confession that had shattered Amelia’s entire reality.
She was not an abandoned child from a nameless background. She was a Hartley.
Every time she looked in the mirror now, she didn't just see her own face; she saw the face that had been plastered across magazines and society pages for years. Isabella Hartley. The resemblance was uncanny, impossible to ignore once the truth was known. They shared the same piercing green eyes, the same sharp jawline, the same subtle curve of the lips. But while Isabella was draped in diamonds, Amelia was draped in debt, exhaustion, and a lifetime of struggling to make ends meet.
Amelia pushed through the swinging doors, the sound of the string quartet washing over her. She stepped into the grand ballroom, the bright lights momentarily blinding her. She scanned the room, her breath catching in her throat as she finally laid eyes on her.
May you like
Isabella. Her sister.
Amelia tightened her grip on the silver tray, stepping into the fray of the party. She didn't know exactly what she was going to do, but she knew she could not leave this room tonight without the truth finally seeing the light.
