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"What...what is all this?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with shock and disbelief.
Mother leans forward, her eyes glinting with a malicious glee. "It seems your precious Amara has quite the checkered past, my dear. Arrests for petty theft and vandalism. A stint in juvenile detention. And most damning of all...a history of sexual promiscuity that would make even the most hardened libertine blush."
I shake my head, my mind reeling as I try to reconcile this information with the woman I know and love. "No...no, this can't be true. There must be some mistake, some...some misunderstanding."
"I'm afraid not, darling," Evelyn says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "It's all there, in black and white. Your sweet, innocent Amara...nothing more than a common criminal and a whore. You understand now? Why, we can’t have a degenerate in the family, especially with the company at stake. Your father would be rolling in his grave."
I feel a surge of anger, hot and fierce, rising up in my chest. "How dare you," I growl, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "How dare you come in here and slander the woman I love with these...these lies and half-truths!"
Evelyn raises a perfectly-arched eyebrow, a look of cool disdain on her face. "Lies, Grayson? I assure you, every bit of information in that file has been thoroughly vetted and verified. But by all means, ask your beloved Amara. See what she has to say for herself."
I'm about to retort, to tell my mother exactly where she can shove her so-called "research"...but something stops me.
A small, niggling doubt, worming its way into my brain.
Could there be some truth to these allegations? Could Amara really have hidden such a dark, troubled past from me?
"I...I need to talk to Amara," I mutter, more to myself than to Evelyn. "I need to hear her side of the story, to...to understand."
My mother nods, a look of faux concern on her face. "Of course, darling. You do what you must. But remember...a leopard never changes its spots. And a woman with a history like Amara's...well, she's hardly fit to be a Winthrop bride, now is she?"
With that parting shot, Evelyn sweeps out of my office, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts and a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I know, deep down, that I should trust Amara. That I should have faith in the love we've built, in the unshakable bond we share. And just like when Sophia made her baseless claims about me, I owe Amara the benefit of the doubt.
But the seeds of doubt have been planted, the cracks in our foundation exposed.
And as I reach for my phone, my finger hovering over Amara's number...
I can't shake the feeling that everything is about to change.
For better or for worse...
The truth will out.
25
AMARA
"Grayson?" I ask, swinging the door open with a sense of growing unease. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
He steps inside, his movements stiff and mechanical. "We need to talk, Amara."
My stomach drops, a cold sense of dread washing over me at his tone. "Of course. Come in, sit down. You're scaring me… What's this all about?"
He takes a seat on the couch, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He doesn’t look like himself. From the stubble on his face to the wrinkles in his suit. For a long moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance.
"My mother came to see me today," he says finally, his voice flat and emotionless. "She had some...information. About you."
I blink at the sudden shift in topic. "Information? What kind of information?"
Grayson reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a thick manila envelope. He tosses it onto the coffee table, the contents spilling out in a damning fan of papers and photographs.
"She's been investigating you, Amara. Digging into your past. And what she found...God, I don't even know where to begin."
I feel the blood drain from my face, my heart pounding in my ears as I reach for the nearest document with trembling fingers.
It's a police report, dated nearly a decade ago. My name, alongside a litany of charges. Petty theft. Vandalism. Disorderly conduct.
