Chapter 4

I cup her face. "It's Mom's fault. I just assumed you'd want pink. Tell me what you actually like. Any furniture, any color. I'll have it done this week."

Something in her expression cracks.

I hold her by the shoulders and make her look at me.

"Listen to me. You are my daughter. No matter what happens in this house—you never, ever have to hand over what belongs to you."

She searches my face for a long moment. Like she's trying to figure out if I'm real. Then she nods.

---

News of the Sinclairs finding their long-lost daughter is everywhere in Greenwich.

I've been planning the welcome-home gala for weeks. Tonight I'm going to introduce Nora to every family that matters.

The ballroom lights dim. I stand at the top of the staircase, heart pounding, watching the entrance.

And under the spotlight—wearing the ivory couture gown I had made for my daughter—Tessa Harlow walks in.

Hair done. Makeup flawless. Smile perfectly rehearsed.

The smile freezes on my face.

*【OMG our heroine is stealing the whole show! The male lead is FROZEN.】*

*【Smart girl, sending that fake info to get the throwaway out of the way early. Now she gets the $20K glam squad AND the $150K couture all to herself. YAS QUEEN.】*

The ballroom hums with whispers.

"That's the Sinclair girl? The one raised in some trailer park? I thought she'd be a mess."

"She's prettier than Melinda Hughes. Say goodbye to Greenwich's 'It Girl.'"

I grab Ethan by the elbow and drag him aside. "What the hell happened. I told you one thing—bring your sister down here. One thing, Ethan."

He puts his hands up. "Mom, Nora wasn't in her room. Only Tessa. She said she didn't know the way. I just walked her down."

Tessa's eyes shimmer right on cue. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sinclair. I asked Ethan to walk with me. Please don't blame him."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Go find your sister. Now."

I watch Ethan hurry out the front door before I pick up the microphone.

"Everyone—my apologies. This lovely young lady is not my daughter. She's a friend of Nora's. My real daughter is a little… unpredictable. You'll see when she gets here."

A ripple runs through the crowd.

"So why is this one strutting down the main staircase like she owns the place?"

"Trying to steal the spotlight. Bold."

Tessa's eyes fill instantly. She stares at her Louboutins, voice trembling.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sinclair. I was just curious. I'll—I'll probably never see anything like this again in my whole life."

The makeup artist behind her has gone paper-white. "Mrs. Sinclair, I swear—when I walked into the room, she was the only one there. I assumed she was your daughter. I just started working."

I turn slowly to Tessa. "You didn't say a word?"