“You could have told me.”

“I should have.”

The words came immediately.

“No excuse?”

“No.”

My anger faltered.

Daniel stepped closer but did not touch me.

“I was afraid that if I showed you the letter without proof, I’d become one more person telling you what to believe about your family.”

That landed harder than anything else.

“So instead, you let me find the truth myself.”

“Yes.”

I looked down at my father’s letter.

At the final paragraph.

Elena has spent her life being told who she is.

If the day comes when she must take control, do not hand her answers.

Hand her the truth and let her decide.

I closed my eyes.

Even dead, my father understood me better than my mother ever had.

When I looked up, Daniel was still waiting.

“I am furious with you.”

“I know.”

“We are discussing this for approximately six hundred hours.”

“I assumed.”

“And you’re sleeping in the guest room.”

He considered that.

“We don’t have a guest room.”

“Buy one.”

A few guests laughed.

I did too.

Against my will.

Daniel smiled.

Then my mother spoke.

“Touching.”

I turned.

She had lost everything that mattered to her.

The company.

Her authority.

Lila.

Her image.

And somehow she still looked at me with contempt.

“You think Jonathan was some saint?” she asked.

“No.”

“You think he didn’t manipulate you?”

“No.”

That surprised her.

I folded his letter.

“He made mistakes.”

I looked at Daniel.

“So did he.”

Then at Lila.

“So did she.”

Finally, I looked at my mother.

“The difference is that they can admit it.”

Her expression hardened.

Two security officers entered quietly through the rear doors.

Rebecca stepped beside me.

“Victoria, the bank investigators need to speak with you.”

My mother stared at me.

“You would let them drag your own mother out of your wedding?”

I thought about that.

Then I bent down.

I picked up the rhinestone gown from the floor.

For years, I had imagined moments when I would finally defeat her.

I had imagined screaming.

Accusations.

Doors slamming.

But standing there in my real dress, holding the costume she had chosen for me, I didn’t feel victorious.

I felt finished.

I handed the glittering gown to her.

“No,” I said quietly.

“I’m letting you walk out carrying the last decision you ever made for me.”

Her fingers closed around the dress.

For once, Victoria Hale had no response.

She walked through the ballroom carrying rhinestones and tulle in her arms.

No applause followed her.

No shouting.

No dramatic music.

Just silence.

Then the doors closed.

For several seconds nobody moved.

The officiant cleared his throat.

“Well.”

Laughter broke across the ballroom.

Real laughter.

Relieved laughter.