The Gala Orphan’s Twin Shocks a Diamond Mogul When She Lifts Her Wrist

The police arrived within the hour. Constance was taken away in handcuffs, her crimson gown a shocking contrast to the grey walls of the patrol car. The news spread like wildfire, but I didn't care about the cameras or the whispers. All I cared about was the hand in mine—Charlotte's hand, warm and real.

We sat in the back of the Moretti limousine, Sofia and Lorenzo in front, their driver weaving through the city. Charlotte and I were curled up together, our medallions now a single sun resting on my chest, exactly where our mother had placed it years ago.

"I can't believe you're real," Charlotte whispered. "I always dreamed of having a sister, but I thought it was silly."

"I dreamed of you too," I said. "Every night. I just didn't know your name."

The Truth About Our Mother Was Buried in a Safety Deposit Box

Lorenzo turned around, his silver hair catching the streetlight. "There's something you need to see," he said. "We found it last night, after the gala. It's from your mother—our brother's wife."

I sat up straighter. "She was married to him?"

"In secret," Sofia said. "They eloped in Italy, but our families disapproved. She was a maid, he was a Moretti. They were going to tell everyone at the Christmas party, but…" She paused. "He died before he could."

Charlotte squeezed my hand. "And then she had to hide you?"

"She didn't hide me," I said slowly, remembering the stories the nuns told. "She left me at St. Mary's when I was a baby. She came back every year on my birthday, but she never came inside. She just watched from the street."

"She was trying to protect you," Lorenzo said softly. "From Constance. From the family's enemies. She knew her husband's death wasn't an accident."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "What do you mean?"

"We found a letter," Sofia said, pulling an envelope from her coat. "It's addressed to you. She wrote it before she died—she died of a broken heart, the doctors said, a year after your father. She asked us to give it to you if we ever found you."

I took the letter with trembling hands. The paper was old, the ink smudged by tears. I read it silently, Charlotte reading over my shoulder.

"My dearest Chloe," it began. "If you're reading this, it means you've found your sister. I'm so sorry I couldn't keep you both. I had to choose, and I chose to keep you safe. Constance found out about the marriage, and she wanted to hurt me. She took Charlotte—no, she took you both, but she gave one to the Morettis and kept the other to control. I couldn't let her use you as a weapon. So I ran, and I left you with the nuns, hoping they'd hide you better than I could. I know you must hate me, but I loved you more than anything. I watched you grow from afar. You have your father's courage, and your sister's smile. Please, forgive me."

I looked up, tears streaming down my face. "She didn't abandon me. She was trying to save me."

Sofia pulled me into her arms. "You are safe now. You have a family. And Constance will never hurt anyone again."

Charlotte hugged me tight. "We have each other. That's all that matters."

I looked out the window as the city lights blurred. Somewhere out there, my mother's spirit was watching. I hoped she could see me now, sitting with my sister, my parents, my future. I hoped she knew I forgave her.

"Welcome home, Chloe," Lorenzo said, his voice thick with emotion. "Welcome home."

I smiled, the first true smile I had ever known. "I'm home."