“I have no regrets.”
Grace Hart closed her eyes, a slight smile on her lips. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
“Oh, right.” Lottie Grant sat up abruptly, as if remembering something. “Did those people from the Hart family get what they deserved?”
“They did.”
Grace briefly explained everything: Lucian Hart’s suicide, Lilian Hart’s descent into madness, Sabrina Hart’s paralysis, and Cassian Hart’s new life selling hot dogs from a street cart.
Lottie Grant was silent for a long time after hearing the story.
“What about Dorian Hart?” Lottie asked. “I heard he’s in Europe now?”
“Yes, he’s working for the Helix Line. I suppose you could say I gave him a way out.”
“Hmph. He got off easy.”
Lottie snorted. “In my paintings, a snake like that would be left hanging from a cliff to dry out in the wind.”
Grace just smiled without saying a word.
She had let it all go.
***
Two days later, at the Clarke family estate.
Damien Clarke sat in his executive chair, glancing at the file on his desk.
It was a DNA paternity test report.
Sample A was a strand of hair from Grace’s vanity.
Sample B was saliva residue from the coffee cup Lottie Grant had used two nights before.
“Mr. Clarke,” Felix said respectfully, “after three separate tests, we can confirm a perfect genetic match between Lottie Grant and Mrs. Clarke. Biologically speaking, they are indeed identical twin sisters.”
“She was admitted to the École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris on a full scholarship and studied under a contemporary master of oil painting. She became famous at the age of twenty-five, and her signature work was acquired by the Pompidou Centre.”
Felix explained while watching Damien’s expression. “She keeps an extremely small circle, splitting her time almost entirely between painting and traveling. Her current boyfriend is an Italian restorer of ancient books. They’ve been together for three years and have a stable relationship.”
Damien’s finger paused on the section about Lottie Grant’s adoptive mother.
Felix noticed his movement and continued.
“We looked into this Ms. Grant. She was a renowned philanthropist who never married. Her foundation has sponsored thousands of orphans. Most importantly, we found the alumni records from State University, confirming that Claire Grant was indeed Mrs. Hawke’s college roommate. They were extremely close and were once known as ‘the stars of their class.’”
Everything matched up.
The logic was sound, the evidence complete.
But Damien couldn’t let his guard down.
“We also checked her financial records. There are no large, unexplained transactions, nor any records of contact with suspicious organizations,” Felix said, closing the folder. “It seems Ms. Lottie Grant is truly innocent.”

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