"Where have you been?" Victoria's voice rang out the moment I stepped into the Haston mansion. She stood in the center of the spacious hall, arms crossed, with a carefully crafted expression of concern on her face. "Your father is ill, we've been going crazy looking for you!"

I calmly set down my bag. "I needed some time to think."


"Think?" her voice rose. "You disappeared for three days! No calls, no messages!"

"I sent a message to Dad," I said. "I told him I needed space and was going on a trip."

"Do you know how worried he was?" Victoria continued her performance. "Especially after what happened with Sophia!"


Ah, yes. Sophia. I pretended to be confused. "What happened to Sophia?"

Victoria's eyes flashed with hatred. "She was drugged at the banquet. Found in an old man's room." She lowered her voice, filled with disgust. "He...did unspeakable things to her."


I had to admire Victoria's acting skills. In my past life, I completely believed this story, felt sorry for Sophia, and even guilty because I couldn't protect her.

"That's terrible," I said, with just the right amount of concern in my voice. "Is she okay?"

"She's hurt," Victoria said. "Both physically and mentally. She keeps asking where you went."

I nodded. "I'll go see her. Where's Dad?"

"In his studio." Victoria hesitated. "Ella...there's one more thing. Your mother disappeared from the hospital."

I widened my eyes, pretending to be shocked. "What? How?"

"No one knows who took her away," Victoria said. "The surveillance footage only shows someone wearing a hat and mask entering her room with a key card. The police are investigating, but there are no clear leads at the moment."

"My God," I whispered. "Where... where could she have gone?"

Victoria shook her head. "In her condition, she could be anywhere. The police are worried she might harm herself... or others."

I bit my lip, pretending to be worried. "I need to find Dad."

As I walked toward Father’s studio, I could feel Victoria’s gaze following me closely. She suspected I knew something, but she had no evidence. Now, she would observe my every move, looking for any weakness she could exploit.

My father's studio was located at the back of the house, a spacious area filled with canvases, paints, and the chaos of creation. When I entered, he was standing with his back to the door, in front of a huge unfinished painting.

"Dad?"

He turned around, the fatigue on his face immediately replaced by relief. "Ella!" He walked quickly towards me and embraced me tightly. "Thank God you're alright."

I hugged him back, taking in his familiar scent—a mixture of turpentine, tobacco, and cologne. In my previous life, our relationship had gradually grown distant under Victoria’s manipulation, until we became almost strangers in the end. This time, I wouldn’t let that happen.

"I'm sorry I made you worry," I said. "I just needed some time alone."

He released me and carefully examined my face. "Are you okay? Victoria told me you were acting strange at the dinner."

Of course she would say that. "I'm fine, Dad. Just a bit tired." I paused. "I heard Mom went missing."

My father's expression immediately darkened. "Yes. The hospital security was a complete mess. Her attending physician says she might be in a dangerous state."

"Dangerous?"

"She didn't take her medication, Ella. You know how she gets when she's unstable."

I took a deep breath. This was a crucial moment. "Dad, have you ever considered... that maybe Mom isn't as unstable as they say she is?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I've been researching her condition," I said cautiously. "Some of the symptoms... don't quite add up."

"Ella," my father's voice turned serious. "We've discussed this already. The best specialists have confirmed the diagnosis."

"Specialists chosen by Victoria," I said softly.

My father's eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"

I was about to answer when the door opened and Victoria walked in. "Richard, the police are here. They want to ask Ella some questions."

I turned toward the doorway to see two officers standing there. One of them stepped forward. "Ella Haston? We'd like to talk to you about your mother's disappearance."

A gleam of victory flashed in Victoria's eyes. She thought she had caught me. But I had prepared for this moment.

"Of course, officer," I said calmly. "How can I help?"

The police questioning lasted two hours. I maintained that I knew nothing about my mother's disappearance and provided a false itinerary for my "solo trip." I knew Victoria would check these details, so I made sure every detail would stand up to scrutiny—the hotels I booked, the galleries I visited, even the restaurants where I ate.

When the police finally left, Victoria followed them to the door, talking in hushed tones. My father sat beside me, looking exhausted.

"Dad," I said softly. "I need to tell you something, but not now. Not here."

He looked at me in confusion. "What is it?"

"About Mom. About Victoria." I took his hand. "Do you trust me?"

He hesitated, and this hesitation pierced my heart. In my past life, he had never chosen to believe me over Victoria.

"Of course I trust you, Ella."

"Then come to my studio tomorrow," I said. "Just you alone. I'll tell you everything."

When Victoria returned, we separated. Her eyes moved back and forth between us, trying to interpret our conversation.

"The police said they will continue the investigation," she announced. "They think Elizabeth might have received help." She looked at me meaningfully.

I stood up. "I'm tired. If you don't mind, I'd like to go rest now."

As I walked toward the stairs, Victoria called after me. "Ella, Sophia wants to see you. She's in her room."

I nodded, knowing this was a confrontation I couldn't avoid.

Sophia's room was located at the other end of the hallway, far from mine. I knocked on the door and, after hearing a faint "come in," pushed it open.

Sophia sat on the bed, wearing silk pajamas, with a perfect victim expression on her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, clearly she had been crying—or at least pretending to have cried.

"Ella," she said softly. "You're back."

I closed the door and leaned against it. "Yes, I'm back."

"Where did you go? After...after that thing happened."

I looked directly into her eyes. "I needed some time to think."

"Think about what?"

"Think about why my stepsister would try to frame me."

Sophia's eyes widened. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" I stepped forward. "That night you and Victoria planned to send me to Charles Williams' room. You drugged my drink."

"No, it wasn't like that!" Sophia shook her head frantically. "It was you! You pushed me into that room! You made that terrible man..." her voice choked, and tears began to flow.

I remained unmoved. "Sophia, we both know what happened. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

She wiped away her tears, the vulnerability in her eyes replaced by calculation. "What do you mean?"

"You can continue this lie and let Victoria use you. Or..."

"Or what?"

"Or you can stand with the winning side."

Sophia laughed, a cold laugh that was completely different from her usual sweet image. "You think you're the winner? Ella, look around. Victoria controls this house. She controls your father. The police are investigating you. You have nothing."

I smiled, a smile that made her own fade. "Are you sure about that?"

I turned and walked away, leaving Sophia confused. She thought she knew the rules of the game, but she didn't know I had changed the entire game.