The Heiress They Exiled Chapter 08

The Heiress They Exiled Chapter 08

Lillian is not the orphaned daughter of the late Capo Miles at all.

The real Lillian Danforth died of an illness when she was seven. The woman who took her identity is nothing more than a distant relative of Capo Miles who somehow learned about the old story and forged her identity,

When my father hears the news, he is receiving an IV at the hospital.

He sits there stunned for a long time before suddenly letting out a laugh.

He keeps laughing until tears begin to stream down his face.

It is the first time I have ever seen him cry.

“For the sake of a liar…” His voice is so hoarse that it is almost impossible to hear. “I sent my own daughter to hell.”

Graham stands outside the hospital room without coming in.

He has lost a lot of weight, his eyes sunken deep into their sockets, as if something inside him has been completely hollowed out.

He speaks softly, so softly that I almost miss it.

“Harper used to chase after me, fight with me, and insist that her brother couldn’t spend time with anyone else. I thought she was annoying.”

“But now…” He raises a hand to cover his eyes. “Now there’s no one left to fight me for anything.”

“Only now do I realize that the so-called lack of boundaries I hated so much was something I would give anything to have back.”

Weston stands farther away.

He leans against the wall, holding an old photograph of me from when I am twelve.

In it, I’m clutching his sleeve tightly, refusing to let go.

He lowers his eyes to the photograph, his fingers gently brushing over my face.

“I always thought what I felt for her was pity. But now that you’re gone, I finally understand. What I called pity was nothing more than feeling sorry for her because she looked lonely.”

“And real love…”

His Adam’s apple moves, “Real love is realizing that now that you’re gone, I don’t want to live

either.”

He closes his eyes and presses the photograph against his chest.

“Harper, I was wrong. But no matter what I say now, you can’t hear me anymore.”

My mother doesn’t go to the hospital.

She locks herself in my bedroom, sits on my bed, and holds the stuffed animal I loved most as a child. She doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink, and doesn’t speak.

Three days later, she finally walks out.

She changes into black clothes and neatly combs her hair.

With a lawyer accompanying her, she goes to the New York Police Department and files a report, accusing Lillian of intentional homicide..

On the day of the trial, everyone is there.

Lillian is brought into the courtroom in handcuffs. The helpless, innocent look she once wears is

completely gone.

My mother sits at the plaintiff’s table, her back perfectly straight. She doesn’t shed a single tear throughout the entire proceeding.

But Lillian suddenly laughs.

Standing at the defendant’s table, she looks at my mother’s pale face, my father’s white hair, Graham’s hollow eyes, and Weston’s exhausted expression before speaking.

“What are you all pretending to be now? Perfect parents?”

Her voice is sharp.

“You’re the ones who sent her to Stonebridge. You’re the ones who called her disobedient. You’re the ones who kept telling her not to get too attached to her family, to stop crossing boundaries.”

“When she knelt in front of you and begged for your help, did any of you listen?”

“When she died on that island, her own father said, ‘Cremate her. Better yet, scatter her ashes.””

She smiles, but the corners of her eyes turn red.

“And now you want to blame me? Did your daughter die by my hand?”

“She died from your favoritism. She died from the rejection each and every one of you showed her.”

“She died the day her father, her mother, her Graham, and her childhood sweetheart all pushed ter away with their own hands.”

only gave her one final push.”

“But YOU were the ones who pushed her off the cliff.”

The entire courtroom falls silent.

My mother’s rigid back finally begins to tremble.

Lillian turns her head toward the empty witness stand and suddenly smiles.