Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Zachary was charged with a slew of things I couldn’t name if you asked me to. It seems he wasn’t the clean-cut victim he portrayed himself to be. After he was reported to have been the source and my statement was broadcast, three of his exes went to the police and reported how he’d abused them during and after their relationships.
He’s probably going to jail. Jasmine is anyone’s guess. Oscar is pretty certain she’ll try to claim a similar story, but she’ll have it harder given their messages. Either way, there’s a quiet belief within the palace that she’ll get off largely scot-free thanks to her surname.
The name everyone now knows has been hers since birth.
I will never forget hearing that my father was screaming at the police officers at the entrance to the palace. After Valentina gave her reporter friend Victoria a nudge in the right direction, the media blew up with the truth of Jasmine’s birth.
It was, to quote Alec’s mother, the ‘scandal of the century,’ which I’m led to believe is really quite the statement. She’s promised to fill me in on what it beat out, so I’ve been invited for lunch, much to Alec’s chagrin.
Apparently, the last thing Arabella Kilon needs to know is how to produce a blade from her sleeve.
I think he’s a bit of a killjoy.
An investigation has been opened into my father and Rosalyn for falsifying records. I have no idea what, if anything, will come of it, but it doesn’t matter. Their worst fears have come true. Their reputations have been completely destroyed by such a heinous lie.
My father is a cheater.
Rosalyn is a mistress.
Jasmine is the unfortunate soul born into a dirty relationship.
And as a result, Sinclair Corp is on the verge of collapse.
Everything I’ve ever wanted is coming true.
Everyone knows the truth about the people in that house.
Their reputations are shot.
The business is shattering.
And I’m going to be the Crown Princess.
I’m surrounded by love. I’m surrounded by kindness. Nobody around me considers me an inconvenience or a burden. I’m not a pest or a nuisance or somebody that needs to be hidden away.
For the first time since I was seven, I have a family. A real family. I love, and I am loved, in ways beyond my wildest dreams. None of this warmth was ever anything I considered when I returned to St Peters two years ago and planned to rip the Sinclairs to pieces.
I never believed I was worthy of it.
I still don’t, sometimes.
Sometimes, my mind gets the better of me. It tells me I’m not good enough, that I’m an imposter, that I should leave before everyone else realises it.
When that happens, Finn holds me close, counts to four until my ears bleed, and kisses my hair. Rowan brings me tea. Beatrix comes with a warm hug, and Louis appears with cake. Oscar fills me in on the local gossip courtesy of his sister, Alec distracts me with information nobody else knows, and Valentina smothers me with mood boards of clothes she wants to buy.
None of these people are normal.
But they’re my family.
They choose me just as much as I choose them.
I glance back over my shoulder. Sophia and the security team are close enough to get here in a few seconds, but far away enough that I have the privacy I need, and I lay out a small blanket at the foot of the grave.
I sit, crossing my legs, and set my mug of tea between me and the grave. My mother’s name stares back at me, followed by a simple line of who she was.
Mother. Wife. Beloved friend.
As if her whole life could be condensed down into those three things.
It doesn’t matter. Not now. Not to the people who love her. And I can say love, not loved, because now I know I’m not the only one who holds her memory as if it’s the most precious thing in the world.
In a life where people desperately tried to erase her memory, everyone now remembering her name is perhaps the greatest revenge I could have enacted.
“Hi, Mum. I’m sorry. It’s been a while.” I look up at the headstone and smile. “And boy, do I have a doozy of a story for you.”
EPILOGUE – HATTIE
6 MONTHS LATER
“Can I ask you a qwestion?”
I look down at the little girl, no more than six, tugging on my skirt, and crouch down in front of her. “Of course you can.”
She blinks at me with big, blue eyes that beam with innocence. “Are you weally a pwincess?”
I nod. “I am.”
She looks around, then leans in. “Do you weally get to wear ballgowns? Like Cindywella?”
“Let me tell you a secret.” I cup my hand around her ear and whisper, “I dance in them in my bedroom all the time!”
She presses her hand to her mouth and giggles, running back to the hospital bed. She clambers up on top of it with the help of her teenage sister, and she whispers something in her ear dramatically. Her sister gasps appropriately, then looks over at me with a beaming smile and mouths, “Thank you.”