The door closed behind the last servants, leaving only Dorian and Isadora in the Thorne family's private study. The silence deadly eerie.
Dorian stood by the fireplace, arms folded tightly. "That girl is not Tessa. You know that."
Isadora sat slowly, her hands clenched on her lap. Her voice was soft, almost trembling. "But Dorian, she looks exactly like her. Her walk, her voice, even the way she behaved was similar to that of Tessa"
Dorian turned sharply. "A resemblance doesn't make her our son's fiancée. We buried Tessa, Isadora. We watched them lower her into the ground."
Isadora stared into space. "I know but it just....."
There was silence, heavy and uneasy. Then Dorian exhaled slowly. "Should we call her parents?"
Isadora's eyes snapped up to meet his. "Yes. Yes, they have to see this. If anyone would know… it's them."
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Elena sat alone in the room.
Everything was untouched. The floral sheets. The neatly arranged vanity. The faint smell of lavender and rain.
It felt like walking into a preserved memory soft and warm, yet suffocating.
She stood slowly, running her fingers along the edge of the dresser, tracing the gold framed mirror. Her own reflection stared back at her… until her eyes caught a frame on the wall.
She turned and froze. A portrait hung above the fireplace, a girl smiling in a pale blue gown.
Tessa.
Elena's breath caught. Her knees nearly gave out.
"What is this…?"
She stepped back, hands over her mouth. Her mind reeled, fragments of doubt and confusion crashing together.
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The heavy gates of the estate creaked open as Mr. and Mrs. Windsor, Tessa's parents stepped out of the car, holding each other.
Mrs. Windsor looked fragile, wrapped in a shawl, her eyes dull and expressionless even before the mansion came into view.
Dorian met them at the door. "Thank you for coming on such short time notice."
"What is it, Dorian?" Mr. Windsor asked. "What's going on?"
Dorian hesitated, then nodded toward the stairs. "There's someone you need to see."
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Isadora stood to the side, lips trembling, her hand gripping Mrs. Windsor's weakly. "I was afraid to call you. But you deserve to know. Did Tessa really die?"
Mirabel shook her head stumbling back but was supported by Sawyer. "Tessa is gone. Why bring us here to reopen our wounds?"
But then they heard the shouting.
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Lucien stood in the center of the room, towering over Elena, who was backed into a corner.
"I don't understand what game you're playing," Lucien growled, eyes dark, voice shaking. "But I won't let you lie to me anymore."
"I'm not lying!" Elena cried, hands raised. "I don't know her! I don't know you! I swear!"
Lucien slammed his fist against the dresser. "You remember something. I see it in your eyes! So stop pretending!"
The door burst open behind them. Dorian, Isadora, and the Windsors entered.
And Mirabel gasped so loudly it made Lucien stop to look back.
She clutched her chest. "Tessa…?"
Elena turned, eyes wide and wet.
"I'm not Tessa" she started. They brought more crazy people to make the situation worse.
But Mirabel collapsed to her knees, tears falling fast. "You came back to me. You came back, baby."
Elena's heart stopped. Lucien stepped back, his face caught between triumph and horror.
Dorian whispered coldly, "You see what this is doing? You're not saving her, Lucien. You're breaking all of us."
The room was silent for half a second.
Then Elena cracked. Tears flooded down her cheeks as her body trembled, and her voice finally broke past the confusion, fear, and pressure.
"I'm not Tessa!" she screamed. "I'm not her! I don't know who she is! I don't know any of you! I've never been in this house!"
She dropped to her knees, hands in her hair, sobbing uncontrollably.
Everyone stared.Until Sawyer, Tessa's father, took a slow step forward.
He studied her, his breathing heavy, his eyes red but sharp.
"…She's not Tessa," he finally said, voice calm, distant.
Isadora gasped, turning to Lucien.
But Lucien's lips were trembling. "No… no, you're wrong"
"She's not Tessa, Lucien," Sawyer said again, firmer this time.
Lucien's hand formed a fist, his eyes glassy. "You all have to see it—she is, she has to be, I—"
Before he could finish, Lucien swayed.
And collapsed.
"Lucien!" Isadora screamed.
She rushed to his side as Dorian barked at the maid, "Call Dr. Brenner. Now!"
Elena stood frozen, shocked, unable to move. Her sobs had stopped, but her body still trembled.
Dorian looked up at her, eyes hard. "Run."
Elena blinked. "What?"
"Run. Leave this house. Leave this town. This country. This entire life. Never come back."
His voice was cold. Protective. Final.
Elena slowly stepped back, still stunned, her mind screaming.
She turned, ready to bolt.
"Don't go anywhere."
It was Sawyer. Everyone looked at him. His hand rested over his heart, but his gaze was steady.
"…Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe she's not our Tessa, but maybe she's meant to be here. For him."
Isadora looked up slowly. "Sawyer…"
Dorian shook his head. "This isn't fate. It's obsession. She has her own life. Her own name."
"They share more than a face," Sawyer murmured. "I felt it."
The room filled with a thick silence.
Then Isadora stood. She turned to Elena, brushing her dress smooth with eerie calm.
"If it's about fear… or confusion… I understand," she said softly.
Then, her tone sharp and commanding.
"I'll give you one billion dollars to stay. Stay here. With him. Be what he lost. Be what he needs."
Elena's mouth parted. Her breath caught in her throat.She wasn't just trapped anymore.Now, she was being bought.