The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Shawn stood up, grabbed the cellphone from the floor, and placed it on the coffee table. Without

a word, he just patted his eldest son on the shoulder and walked away.

Delilah let out a disappointed sigh. “You’re just too hard on Mira. She’s your sister, not a stranger. But you’re always so reluctant to trust her a little more. Take tonight, for instance. If you’d just kept your cool, things wouldn’t have blown up like this.”

Emmitt’s hand, hanging by his side, clenched tighter. His face twisted in a grimace of shame and embarrassment. When he had received Summer’s tearful call earlier that night, he’d rushed to judgment against Mirabella without a second thought. He was convinced in his gut that his sister was nothing but trouble. Even if she did have a close bond with Summer’s grandma, surely whisking her away without a heads–up was not okay, right?

And now what?

A self–mocking smile flickered across Emmitt’s lips. After all his bluster and accusations, it had all been a big misunderstanding.

Compared to Summer, Mirabella seemed to do nothing but irk him with her antics. Even when she aced a competition, he only briefly saw her in a new light before once again being disappointed by her aloof and uncommunicative demeanor. Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

Today’s drama felt eerily similar to that past incident. But in the end, he had to admit he was the problem. Even if she had explained, he wouldn’t have believed her.

She had challenged him, saying, “If I told you I wasn’t the one who took her, how would you judge?” But his first instinct had still been disbelief.

Indeed, what was the point in explaining when you knew you wouldn’t be believed? If he was in her shoes, he wouldn’t bother to explain either.

Emmitt rubbed his face and forced a wry smile.

—

Fresh out of the shower, with her hair still dripping wet, Mirabella grabbed the hairdryer and her charging phone, holding down the power button. In seconds, it came to life, bombarded with a flurry of texts and missed calls, including several from Emmitt and a few from unknown numbers.

She scrolled through them, turned off the hairdryer, and dialed Catherine. This time, there was no cold, disconnected tone.

Soon, the call connected.

Mirabella held the phone without speaking, and on the other end, Catherine also remained silent. The line was filled only with faint breathing. After a long pause, Mirabella softly called out, “Grandma.”

12:15

UnaBret 1.24.

“Yes, dear… I’m here.” Catherine’s voice came through, accompanied by the sound of something being knocked over, which was almost drowning her out.

Mirabella pressed a hand to her forehead in resignation, then pulled up a chair and sat down. With a sigh, she asked, “Are you set on having me listen to you knock things over?”

As if on cue, the background clatter ceased.

Two seconds later, Catherine’s meek voice explained, “Ahem. I was just trying to pour myself a glass of water and wasn’t paying attention.”

Mirabella raised an eyebrow, and leaned back lazily in her chair. The warm light of the room. cast a cozy glow on her face. She drawled, “Yeah, I get it. No need to elaborate.”