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Chapter 85
The silence between mother and daughter stretched across the hall like a wire strung too tight, humming with everything they’d both refused to say for twenty years. Helsin’s hand stayed frozen on the banister, her breath caught halfway between truth and survival.Wilfreda didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. The TV droned on behind her—Julia Banks’ voice, clipped by the anchor’s interruptions, her face a flickering banner of defiance as another state bled red.Helsin’s sucked in a breath so careful it scraped her ribs raw. Don’t break. Not now.“Steven O’Connor is not your father,” she said. Her voice didn’t crack, as if she’d practiced this lie so long it had become bone.Wilfreda’s eyes widened—hurt, confusion, something fierce burning under the wet glint in her lashes. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t stand there and—”Helsin lifted her hand—palm out, not to strike but to hold the truth at bay like a wolf at the door. Her shadow swallowed the bottom step. “No more tonight, Wilfreda. No more questio
Chapter 84
Senator Norville’s private suite gleamed under the bruised blue glow of five muted flat screens. The ticker crawled across each one—counties turning red, Julia’s name flickering just behind his by numbers too close for comfort but just wide enough to fan the fire in his chest.Roney Bashan sprawled in an overstuffed armchair like a man who’d never been told “no.” His sleek phone buzzed every few minutes with back-channel updates—county clerks bribed with silent promises, local judges tipped off about which box to count twice and which to lose altogether.Two junior aides lingered at the minibar like eager pups, uncorking a bottle of French champagne Norville had kept hidden for exactly this moment—though he wasn’t fool enough to celebrate it yet. Not until he’d seen Julia Banks’ name buried under legal challenges so deep she’d never claw her way out.Norville hunched over the largest screen, one hand braced on the slick marble bar as if the entire country’s fate rested under his weddi
Chapter 83
By the time Wilfreda slipped her ballot into the scanner, her hands had gone clammy with adrenaline. She forced a polite thank you at the poll worker, grabbed her sticker, and ducked back out into the drizzle before her pulse could settle.The two men were already halfway down the sidewalk, moving slowly, one of them adjusting his cap against the drizzle while the other fumbled with the zipper on his windbreaker. Wilfreda trotted to catch up, not ready to let this opportunity to slip through without her getting to know what kind of relationship really existed between her mother, Julia and Steven O' Connor.“Excuse me, sir? Sir!” she called out, her voice too bright, too eager. The men turned, surprised to see that they were ones whom the lady was calling out to.Wilfreda paced up as she could see the flicker of polite confusion on the older man’s face who was just blinking at her as she barreled toward him with a half-panicked smile.“Sorry, I—I just… I overheard what you said inside,
Chapter 82
The local news ticker crawled painfully slow across the big flat screen—red and blue numbers bleeding into each other like slow-dripping poison.Gary stood dead center, remote clutched like a loaded gun, stabbing at the screen as if sheer willpower could force the map to flip back to their side.“Alright, everyone—eyes up!” he barked, voice echoing through the cramped HQ break room they’d commandeered as the war bunker for the night. “District Five is reporting first. If we don’t clinch that—”He didn’t bother to finish. He didn’t need to.The numbers flashed.Norville — 51% | Banks — 47%.A ripple of quiet groans spread through the cluster of staffers, interns, and late-night volunteers half-living on cheap coffee and stale pastry boxes. Somewhere in the back, an exhausted young aide muttered a curse that earned him a look from Julia’s comms director.Chloe stood at Chance’s shoulder, her hand a warm anchor on his arm. Her nails tapped lightly—one, two, three—steadying him even when
Chapter 81
The first bruised light of dawn broke over the old stone polling station, its weathered columns dripping rain that shivered down the marble steps. Julia stood beneath the archway like a soldier who refused to lay down her armor. The damp chill seeped through her coat, but she didn’t flinch. Not with Chance on her right and Gary on her left.Behind them, the line of early voters wound around the block, umbrellas bobbing like mute witnesses. Some held their phones up, filming. Some whispered. Some gave her a quiet nod—a gesture that said We see you. We know what they’re trying to do.But the press didn’t care about nods. The moment Julia stepped forward, the swarm pounced—lens glinting like predator eyes, boom mics jabbing close enough that Chance instinctively angled himself between her and the sharpest elbow.“Mrs. Banks! Over here! Where’s the proof?”“Chance! Chance, over here, are you the one being referred to as Steven’s illegitimate son or is it someone else?”Julia raised one h
Chapter 80
Outside, Helsin pushed through the heavy glass doors and into the rain. It spattered cold against her face, soaking through the thin wool of her coat in seconds. She didn’t bother with her umbrella. She needed the cold. Needed it to bite at her skin and shock her back into focus.The street outside Julia’s headquarters was a mess of blinking brake lights and news vans prowling for a scrap of scandal before morning. Helsin kept her head down as she crossed to her car—a battered old sedan that looked out of place parked among sleek campaign SUVs.Inside, she sat for a long moment, hands resting on the wheel, engine off, watching her own breath fog the windshield.She could still feel Wilfreda’s voice from the night before—sharp and hurt and unyielding. That girl, so stubbornly righteous, so hungry for a truth Helsin had buried so deep she’d almost convinced herself it could stay there forever.But not anymore.Not after tonight. Not after seeing Julia standing defiant under all that rui
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