Funerals.
Had any of it been real?
“Did my mother know?”
Shelby looked toward the blank screen.
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“And she said nothing to me?”
Shelby shook her head.
“She made me promise.”
“Why?”
“Because she said she needed proof first.”
Preston smiled.
“There’s your saint.”
I looked toward Elias.
He was already reaching for the black case one of the investigators carried.
My heart began pounding.
“What?”
Elias hesitated.
“What is it?”
He looked almost sad.
“Your mother requested one additional test before she died.”
Shelby froze.
Elias removed a sealed folder.
I stared at it.
“What test?”
He handed it to me.
DNA ANALYSIS.
Two names had been redacted in the copy.
The conclusion had not.
Probability of biological paternity: 0.00%.
Shelby swayed.
“No.”
Elias said quietly, “Richard Blackwell was not your father.”
Shelby stared at the page.
“No.”
“Your mother’s claim was false.”
“No.”
“She requested payments from Mr.
Blackwell years ago and threatened to make the allegation public.
He paid her privately rather than risk scandal.”
Shelby grabbed the folder.
Her eyes raced over the pages.
“That’s not possible.”
“My mother commissioned two independent tests,” I said.
Shelby looked up.
“She knew?”
I remembered Eleanor’s recording.
I finally understood why she had looked so tired when she said she hoped she was wrong.
Not because of Preston.
Because of Shelby.
Elias spoke gently.
“Eleanor invited Shelby to meet her three days before she died.”
Shelby’s head snapped toward him.
“You recorded that?”
“Mrs.
Vale recorded all discussions relating to the investigation.”
Shelby’s face collapsed.
Preston turned toward her.
“You met Eleanor?”
She said nothing.
His expression changed.
“When?”
Shelby backed away.
Preston stared.
“When did you meet her?”
The answer came from me.
“Play it.”
Elias looked uncertain.
I nodded.
The screen lit once more.
My mother’s library.
Shelby sitting opposite her.
She looked furious.
My mother looked exhausted.
“You are not Richard’s daughter,” Eleanor said.
Shelby leaned forward.
“You’re lying.”
“I am not.”
“My mother told me—”
“Your mother lied to you.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“I expect you to read the tests.”
My mother slid a folder across the table.
Shelby did not touch it.
“You stole my life.”
“No, Shelby.”
“You gave Vivienne everything.”
“I gave my daughter what every mother hopes to give her.”
“And what did mine give me?”
My mother’s expression softened.
“A wound she told you to worship.”
The line cut through the ballroom.
On the video, Shelby stood.
“My relationship with Preston has nothing to do with this.”
My mother looked at her for a long time.
Then she said, “That is another lie.”
Shelby went white in the ballroom.
Preston stared at her.
The video continued.
My mother spoke.
“You approached him because hurting Vivienne was the closest you could come to punishing Richard.”
Shelby’s voice on the recording broke.
