Her entire neighborhood stared through their windows as a driver in white gloves stepped out and opened the door.
“Miss Blake,” he said politely. “Mr. Weston is waiting.”
Emma’s hands trembled the entire ride.
Weston Manor looked more like a palace than a home—massive iron gates, marble fountains, security guards everywhere.
Something felt wrong the moment she walked inside.
The mansion was silent.
Too silent.
A woman in a dark red dress greeted her near the staircase.
“You’re Emma,” she said coldly.
“Yes…”
The woman forced a smile.
“I’m Victoria Weston. Richard’s wife.”
Before Emma could answer, Victoria leaned closer and whispered:
“You should’ve let him die this morning.”
Emma’s heart nearly stopped.
“What?”
But before Victoria could continue, a little girl’s voice echoed through the hallway.
“Daddy?”
Emma turned.
A young girl—maybe six years old—stood barefoot at the top of the stairs holding a stuffed rabbit.
And the moment Emma saw her face…
She froze.
The child looked exactly like her.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
Same tiny birthmark near her chin.
The girl stared at Emma in shock.
Then quietly whispered:
“…Mommy?”
Emma stumbled backward.
“That’s impossible…”
Suddenly, Richard Weston appeared behind the child, weak but alive.
His expression filled with guilt.
“Emma…” he said softly. “There’s something your mother never told you.”
Victoria’s face turned furious.
“Richard, don’t you dare.”
But Richard looked directly into Emma’s terrified eyes.
“Six years ago,” he whispered, “your twin sister disappeared after giving birth.”
Emma’s knees almost gave out.
“No…”
Richard continued:
“We searched for the baby for years.”
The little girl slowly walked downstairs toward Emma.
Tears filled Emma’s eyes as the child grabbed her hand.
And then Richard revealed the truth that changed everything:
“The little girl you saved me for today… is your niece.”
Suddenly—
A gun clicked somewhere behind them.
Victoria’s voice turned ice cold.
“She was never supposed to find out.”
