Elara barely made it out of the ballroom before her legs gave out, collapsing into the nearest chair in the hallway. The faint hum of murmurs from inside the wedding hall grew distant as her head spun, her entire world tilting sideways.
I'm the real Sinclair heiress.
Clara's voice echoed through her mind again, sharp and insistent, unraveling everything she thought she knew about herself.
"Elara," Violet's voice brought her back. Her best friend knelt beside her, eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay? This… this can't be real, right?"
Elara swallowed, forcing herself to meet Violet's eyes. "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know what's real anymore."
Violet squeezed her hand tightly, but there were no words that could make sense of the chaos. "What are you going to do?"
Elara shook her head. "I need to talk to my parents. If there's even a chance that what Clara said is true…" Her voice broke as she trailed off. The mere thought that her parents—her real parents—could have hidden this from her for eighteen years was too much to process.
Before she could say anything more, the heavy sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. She looked up to see her father approaching, his face ashen and lined with tension. He seemed older now, as though Clara's revelation had added years to his appearance in a matter of minutes.
"We need to talk," he said simply, his voice devoid of its usual authority.
Elara stood shakily, the fight within her now replaced with a hollow fear. "Dad," she started, her voice barely above a whisper, "is what she said true?"
Her father's expression didn't change. "I don't know yet. But we'll get to the bottom of this." His tone was calm, but there was an edge of uncertainty that Elara had never heard before.
"Dad… did you know?" The words came out harsher than she intended, her voice trembling with the rawness of her emotions. Her heart begged for him to deny it, to assure her that this was all a misunderstanding, but the silence that followed only made the knot in her stomach tighten.
"I swear to you, Elara, we didn't know." He looked at her, his eyes clouded with guilt, but there was no denial of the possibility. "We'll have this tested, legally. We'll find out the truth."
"The truth," Elara repeated bitterly, hugging her arms around herself. "What if the truth is that I don't belong here? What if everything I've ever known was a lie?"
He took a step toward her, but she held up a hand, needing distance. She felt fragile, like the slightest touch would shatter her completely. The weight of her father's presence, his attempt at comfort, was more than she could handle right now.
Her father sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "We'll figure it out. But until we know for certain, nothing changes. You're still my daughter."
The words should have been reassuring, but Elara felt no comfort in them. She couldn't escape the gnawing feeling that her entire life had been built on a lie, one that was just starting to unravel.
Without another word, her father turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the echoing hallway. Elara felt the weight of the world pressing down on her, her thoughts spiraling. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, numb and staring into space, until Violet finally spoke up.
"We need to find Clara," Violet whispered, breaking the silence. "There has to be more to this."
Elara nodded slowly, her jaw clenched in determination. "I need answers."
With Violet by her side, Elara made her way back toward the ballroom, her heart heavy with dread. As they approached the doors, they could still hear the guests murmuring inside. The lavish wedding had turned into a scandalous spectacle in the blink of an eye, and Elara wasn't sure she had the strength to face it.
But she didn't have a choice. She had to know the truth.
As they slipped through the side doors of the ballroom, the sea of whispers died down, and all eyes turned to her once more. The pressure of their stares weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she forced herself to stand tall, to keep her head high despite the chaos inside her heart.
At the front of the room, Clara was still there, talking to Xavier Langford. The smug look on her face sent a wave of anger through Elara, and she clenched her fists at her sides.
"Elara!" Clara's voice rang out as she spotted her approaching. The smug smile widened as she sauntered over, her confidence oozing with every step. "Come to surrender already?"
Elara's gaze hardened. "What do you want?"
Clara tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Isn't it obvious? I want what's rightfully mine."
Elara's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the woman claiming to be the real Sinclair heiress. Clara might have a letter, but that wasn't enough to tear her life apart. Not yet. "You can't just show up with a piece of paper and think that changes everything."
Clara's smile faltered for a moment before returning in full force. "You think I came here without a plan, Elara? I've waited my whole life for this moment. I will take back what's mine."
Elara's pulse quickened. This was no idle threat—Clara was prepared for a fight. But Elara wasn't ready to give up without a fight of her own. No matter what the truth was, she wasn't going to stand by and watch her life be ripped away from her.
"This isn't over," Elara said, her voice steady with determination. "You may have some story, but until I have proof, I'm not going anywhere."
Clara smirked. "Suit yourself. But we both know the truth is coming for you, one way or another."
As Clara turned and walked away, Elara felt a pit of dread growing inside her. The doubt had been planted, and it was already spreading like wildfire. But she wasn't about to let Clara destroy everything she'd worked for. Not yet.
Elara clenched her fists, her resolve hardening. The truth might be out there, but until it was revealed, she would fight for her place—no matter what.