Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 123

Elara

Mamá opened her mouth to argue, but I pulled her back.

“It’s fine, Mamá,” I said. My voice was steady now. “I’ll be there.”

I took the summons from his hand, our fingers not quite touching.

Julian looked at me for a long moment. Something complicated

moved behind his eyes–guilt? Doubt? Concern?

Then he rolled up the window and drove away.

Mamá crumpled against me, sobbing. “I’m useless. I can’t protect you

from anything…”

I held her, feeling the shaking of her thin shoulders, and wondered if

this was what growth looked like.

My mother, finally finding her voice.

Me, finally learning I couldn’t rely on anyone but myself.

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Chapter 123

Raven stood a few feet away, silent, her hand finding mine in quiet

support.

The next morning, I arrived at the Manhattan precinct at 9:30 a.m.

Raven had insisted on coming despite my protests. She waited

outside, pacing the sidewalk with her phone clutched tight.

The detective assigned to my case was a man in his fifties named

Harris. White, tired–looking, with shrewd eyes that missed nothing.

He gestured to a chair. I sat.

“Miss Vance,” he began, flipping open a file. “Walk me through the

evening of the gala. What time did you arrive? Who did you speak

with? Where did you go?”

I answered each question carefully, precisely. The timeline. The confrontation with Sloane. My altercation with Victoria and Anna in the hallway.

“And your relationship with Miss Kennedy,” Detective Harris said.

“Would you say you harbor animosity toward her?”

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I met his gaze. “I have issues with Miss Kennedy plagiarizing my

artwork and claiming it as her own. But that doesn’t mean I’d poison

her.”

His eyebrow lifted. “So you admit there’s conflict between you?”

“Conflict doesn’t equal attempted murder,” I said evenly. “I had no

motive. No opportunity.”

He leaned back in his chair. “According to Anna Petrova’s statement,

you approached her in the upstairs hallway. You told her you wanted

‘Sloane Kennedy to suffer. You gave her a small vial containing white

powder. She says you told her to put it in Miss Kennedy’s tea.”

My stomach turned. The lie was so specific. So deliberate.

“Then produce this vial,” I said. “Check it for my fingerprints. Show

me any physical evidence.”

“Miss Petrova claims she discarded the vial after using its contents.”

“How convenient.”

Detective Harris’s expression didn’t change. ‘She also states that she

admired you. That she saw you as a victim of the Vane family’s

mistreatment. She was willing to help you without payment because

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she sympathized with your situation.”

The story was airtight. Perfectly crafted.

“Then check her bank accounts,” I said. “If she really did this out of

sympathy, there should be no unusual deposits. No payments.”

Harris’s eyes flickered–the first sign of genuine interest.

“We’ll look into it,” he said.

But I could already hear the doubt in his voice.

They brought Anna in for a confrontation an hour later.

She looked embarrassed, her eyes red–rimmed, her hands twisting in

her lap.

The moment she saw me, tears started streaming down her face.

“Miss Elara,” she whispered. “Please. Just confess.”

I stared at her, cold spreading through my chest.

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unexplained deposits.”

Panic flashed across her face. “Don’t involve my family!”

But she caught herself quickly, smoothing her expression. “Go ahead

and check. You won’t find anything.”

Detective Harris cleared his throat. “We’ve already examined Miss

Petrova’s immediate family’s accounts. There are no suspicious large

deposits.”

My heart sank.

Of course there weren’t. Whoever orchestrated this had been too

careful for something so obvious.

Anna saw my expression and smiled–just a tiny curve of her lips.

“See, Miss Elara? I told you. I wasn’t paid.”

She leaned closer, her voice almost gentle. “Just confess. Take the deal. You’ll get a slap on the wrist, some community service. I’ll get

enough money. We both win.”

She paused. “You can’t stay in that family anyway. Everyone knows Mr. Vane will marry Miss Kennedy. Why destroy yourself fighting a battle you’ve already lost?”

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I looked at her–this woman who’d been convinced, or bribed, or

blackmailed into framing me.

“I won’t confess to something I didn’t do,” I said. My voice was quiet

but absolute. “If the Vane family has the power to erase all financial

trails, then I’ll find other evidence. But I won’t lie to save anyone’s

skin. Not theirs. Not yours. Not even my own.”

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