Chapter 4
The truth hung in the air, heavy and terrible.
My own uncle.
He had stolen me. Destroyed my mother’s happiness. And waited twenty years to steal everything.
Eleanor stood tall.
"He will not get away with it," she said. "Not this time."
The next morning, her brother arrived at the house.
He walked in like he owned the place—confident, arrogant, until he saw me standing beside Eleanor.
His face drained of color.
"That’s impossible," he breathed.
"Nothing is impossible," Eleanor said. "This is Stella. Your niece. The daughter you had stolen from me."
He recovered quickly, laughing coldly.
"Prove it," he said. "She could be anyone."
I stepped forward and pulled back my sleeve.
"Look at my wrist," I said. "And then look at the confession. Everything you did. Every lie you told."
He stared at the star. And then he knew.
"You found it," he whispered. "After all this time."
"I found her," Eleanor said. "And I will make sure you answer for every moment of pain you caused."
He looked at me, eyes hard.
"You think you’ve won?" he said. "I’ve been managing this family’s fortune for twenty years. You have no idea what you’re up against."
"I don’t need to," I said. "Because I have the truth. And truth has a way of coming out."
He stormed out, furious. But before he left, he looked back at me.
"This isn’t over," he snapped.
May you like
Eleanor squeezed my hand.
"He’s dangerous," she said. "But we are together now. And we will not be afraid."
