Chapter 7 - The Confrontation in the ManorAn hour later, the grand estate was empty of guests, replaced by the quiet, methodical movement of police technicians documenting the scene. Nora sat in the grand library, the black robe pulled loosely over her shoulders once more, a cup of hot tea sitting untouched on the mahogany desk before her.
Mr. Harrison stood by the window, watching the flashing red and blue lights paint the stone walls of the courtyard.
"You handled that with immense courage, Nora," the old attorney said, his voice soft. "Your grandmother would have been incredibly proud of you. She always knew you had the strength to carry the family legacy."
"She knew I had the scars for it," Nora amended quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. "Where is Lila?"
"She’s upstairs in her room," Harrison sighed. "The police didn't arrest her—she was a child when the fire occurred, and there’s no direct evidence she participated in the financial fraud or the arson cover-up. But she is legally broke. Every account she used was tied to the corporate structure that now belongs entirely to you."
The heavy oak door of the library swung open with a slow, agonizing groan.
Lila stood in the doorway. She had stripped off the silver bikini and the crown, now wearing a simple gray sweatshirt and sweatpants—the kind of clothes she had always insisted Nora wear to keep out of sight. Her face was washed clean of makeup, looking pale, drawn, and remarkably like Nora’s—minus the history written in tissue.
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"Are you going to throw me out tonight?" Lila asked, her voice hollow, devoid of its earlier venom.
Nora looked at her twin, the sister who shared her face but none of her pain. "No, Lila. I’m not going to throw you out. But the rules of this house have changed."
