In the days following the family dinner, I sensed a subtle change in the atmosphere at home. My father began to look at me more frequently, with confusion and thoughtfulness in his eyes. Victoria became more vigilant, monitoring my actions almost constantly. Sophia walked on eggshells around me, seemingly uncertain how to respond to this new version of me.

I needed to accelerate my plan.


One morning, I received a call from Oliver.

"I found something," he said in a low voice. "About your mother's medication."

"Can I come over?"


"Better at my office. Safer."

I told Victoria I was going to the gallery to see some new works, then headed directly to Oliver's law firm in Midtown Manhattan. His office was on the top floor of a high-rise building with a magnificent view of Central Park through the windows.


"Thank you for coming," Oliver said, leading me into a private conference room. "Your mother is here too."

My heart raced. Elizabeth Haston was sitting at the conference table, looking healthier and more alert than when I had last seen her. Her hair was neatly styled, and she wore a simple but elegant suit.

"Mom," I hugged her. "You look so much better."

"I feel better too," she smiled. "The drugs have completely cleared out of my system."

Oliver opened a folder. "We have medical evidence that Elizabeth was given inappropriate medications. These drugs weren't used to treat any known mental illness, but would cause confusion, memory loss, and symptoms similar to psychosis."

"Who prescribed them?" I asked.

"Dr. Morris," Oliver said. "But interestingly, these prescriptions were issued under Victoria's instructions. We found communications between them."

A flash of anger appeared in my mother's eyes. "They stole twenty years of my life."

"We discovered more," Oliver continued. "About your father's funds. Large amounts of money were transferred to offshore accounts and then reinvested in a secret project at Blake Enterprises."

"Blake Enterprises?" I feigned surprise. "Did Alexander Blake know about this?"

"It's unclear," Oliver said. "But the transactions were conducted through Katherine Stanford's family company."

This aligns with what I discovered in my previous life. Victoria and Katherine's father had been engaged in secret dealings, using my father's funds for high-risk investments. When these investments failed, they attempted to cover up the losses, ultimately leading to the collapse of my father's art empire.

"Do we have enough evidence to prosecute Victoria?" I asked.

Oliver hesitated. "Legally, yes. But it would be an ugly battle. Victoria has many powerful friends. And, frankly, your father might not stand with us."

I nodded, understanding his concerns. In my previous life, my father had consistently refused to believe Victoria's betrayal until it was too late.

"Then we need more evidence," I said. "Enough that my father cannot ignore."

"I have an idea," my mother suddenly said. "Victoria has always kept a private diary. She thinks no one knows about it. But I once saw her writing in it, then locking it in her jewelry cabinet."

I exchanged a glance with Oliver.

"If we could get that diary..." I began.

"It would be conclusive evidence," Oliver finished my sentence. "But how do we get it?"

"I can," I said. "I know her daily schedule. I know when she's not home."

"It's too dangerous," my mother said worriedly. "If you get caught..."

"I won't," I said firmly. "This is our only chance."

We devised a plan. Two days later, Victoria would attend a charity luncheon that typically lasted several hours. That would be the perfect time for me to search her room.

As I was preparing to leave, Oliver held me back.

"One more thing," he said. "I looked into Alexander Blake. He's shown recent interest in you?"

I nodded.

"Be careful," Oliver warned. "He might know something. Or he might be part of Katherine's plan."

"I'll be careful," I promised, though I knew Alexander knew nothing about Victoria and Katherine's plan at this stage. His interest was genuine, albeit possibly for the wrong reasons.

Two days later, I stood outside Victoria and my father's bedroom door, my heart pounding. I had confirmed that Victoria had left for a luncheon, my father was in his studio, and Sophia had gone out shopping.

I gently opened the door and slipped into the room. Victoria's jewelry cabinet was located next to her dressing table, an exquisite antique cabinet that required a key to open.

In my previous life, I had never dared to enter this room, let alone search through Victoria's personal belongings. But now, I knew what was important and what was worth taking risks for.

I took out a set of small tools from my pocket—over the past week, I had learned how to pick locks, one of the many new skills I had acquired since my rebirth.

The lock on the jewelry cabinet was more complex than I expected, but after a few minutes of effort, I heard a satisfying click. The cabinet door opened, revealing sparkling jewelry inside and... a small red leather diary.

I quickly grabbed the diary and opened it. Victoria's handwriting was neat and sharp, the pages filled with her thoughts and plans. I skimmed through it rapidly, looking for any useful information.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps.

I froze, my heart almost stopping. The footsteps grew closer, then stopped outside the door.

I quickly closed the diary, stuffed it into my pocket, shut the jewelry cabinet, and looked around for a hiding place. The bedroom connected to a large closet, and I silently slid inside, hiding behind the hanging clothes.

The door opened, and I heard Victoria's voice.

"I forgot my bracelet," she said to someone. "I can't go to the luncheon without it."

I held my breath, listening to her moving in the room. She walked toward the jewelry cabinet, and my heart sank. She would discover it had been opened.

But just as she was about to open the cabinet, another voice interrupted her.

"Victoria!" It was my father. "Phone call, it's the gallery. They say it's urgent."

Victoria hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Alright, I'm coming."

She left the room, and I waited a few minutes to make sure she wouldn't suddenly return, then slipped out of the closet. I quickly checked the jewelry cabinet to ensure it looked undisturbed, then quietly left the room.

My heart was still pounding, but I had succeeded. The diary was safely hidden in my pocket.

Now, it was time to reveal the truth.