“Yes,” Diana nodded gently, her wrinkled face softening with a grandmother’s warmth.
Tears welled up in Amelia’s eyes as she grasped Diana’s hands. “Please, tell me about her.”
The joy of this unexpected connection also reopened old wounds. Amelia’s voice grew home, her slight frame trembled.
“Finally,” Amelia thought, “someone who knew Mom, someone who can tell me about her. She wasn’t just a photograph on a headstone. She existed.”
“Debra’s mental health was delicate,” Diana said, tapping her temple. “That’s why Walter kept her at home all these years. She rarely went outside.”
“My mom?” Amelia stood there stunned. “My dear mum had a mental illness?” The thought hit her like a punch to the gut.
“She was beautiful though,” Diana’s eyes softened with memory. “Such a gentle, sweet soul. While she was simple, she never caused any trouble. And she adored Walter. She would do anything he asked.”
“Back then, you all lived in Pinecrest,” Diana continued, studying Amelia’s face. “The three of you seemed quite happy together. Don’t you remember any of it?”
Amelia shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “I lost all those memories after the high fever.”
“Ah, I see now,” Diana nodded. “But don’t worry about it. You were so young then. It’s natural you wouldn’t remember much.”
“Diana… Was my mom truly happy?” Amelia pressed.
“At least until she got sick, yes, she was.” Diana’s voice trailed off.
Amelia’s heart sank. ‘Mom was sick? And she wasn’t happy after that?’ she thought.
“What happened then?” Amelia asked, her throat tight with anxiety, dreading the answer and needing to know the truth.
Diana sighed and continued, “Your mother’s illness came on suddenly. She deteriorated quickly, becoming frail and bedridden. From the time she fell ill until she passed, it was only about a week.”
“What was it?” Amelia asked. “What made her so sick?”
Diana shook her head. “I don’t know. Your father never took her to a hospital.”
Amelia felt her heart plummet, an icy chill spreading through her body. The pattern was crystal clear–drain her finances, sudden illness, denied treatment, left to die. And then Melissa would step in as the new wife.
It mirrored her past life with haunting similarity. Back then, she had been diagnosed with breast cancer right before marriage, underwent a mastectomy, and was discarded once she’d served her purpose. Sandra had swooped in to join the Foster family. It was the same cruel playbook, but with different actors.
Amelia’s breathing grew ragged as an overwhelming ache gripped her heart. “Who could love someone with mental disease?” she thought bitterly. ‘Especially someone like Walter, who only sees people as stepping stones. Mom and I were just pawns in his game!’
“Walter only married Mom for her money, and he played the devoted husband for a few years just because she was beautiful,” Amelia thought, her eyes filling with bitter tears. ‘Once she lost her value to him, he tossed her aside. Or maybe Melissa just couldn’t wait any longer!’
The room started spinning, and Amelia had to bite her lip hard to stay conscious.
“Here, sit down and have some water,” Diana said, guiding Amelia to a chair and pouring her a cup of water.
After Amelia took a few small sips, the dizziness began to fade. Her hands trembled as she clutched the warm cup. “Diana,” she asked, her voice unsteady, “how many people here knew my mother?”
“Not many. She rarely left the house,” Diana sighed. “Walter was just a poor boy back then; it was your mother’s money and jewelry that…”
Amelia felt each word like a physical blow. Tears streamed down her face as her body trembled uncontrollably. Fate had given her a second chance at life, but her mother hadn’t been so fortunate.
“You’re a sharp one, Miss,” Diana said softly. “I’ve had the same suspicions myself, but never any proof.”
“Diana, thank you for telling me all this, is that all?” Amelia’s voice cracked as she looked up, fighting to keep her composure. No matter how pink it, she had to hold it together. She needed to know the whole truth before deciding her next move.
Diana suddenly seemed to remember something. “Your mother left you some things–company shares, inheritance…”
“Yes, I know. She did it during a moment of clarity before she passed.” Amelia nodded.
“No,” Dana shook her head slowly. “Your mother became ill and died after she regained clarity.”
Amelia’s eyes widened, her heart tightening in her chest. “Are you saying Walter made his move because Mom regained clarity?”
Diana remained silent. After all, she had only been a neighbor to the Edwards family back then, and the truth remained unclear; nearly two decades had passed, and the memories had grown hazy.
If Landon hadn’t asked Amelia to seek her out, Diana wouldn’t have even remembered Debra.
“That’s ruthless,” Amelia broke down, tears streaming down her face. The pain she had endured–both in her past life and present–combined with Debra’s fate felt like a knife twisting in her heart. “Walter, what kind of monster have you become?” she screamed internally.
“I’ve told you everything I know. You should discuss the next steps with Landon,” Diana said, then added with concern. “How is he doing, by the way?”
“A bit better,” Amelia choked out, fighting back tears. “Thank you for telling me all this.”
“You look so much like Debra. The moment I saw you, I couldn’t help but think about her,” Diana said kindly, offering her a box of tissues.
Amelia wiped her tears roughly, her jaw set with determination. “I’ll uncover the truth. I’ll clear my mother’s name.”
“Of course, you will.” Diana gathered a generous bunch of roses and handed them to Amelia. “Now go home and take care of Landon.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to pass on to Landon?” Amelia asked hesitantly.
“Just tell him to visit me once he’s feeling better,” Diana said with a warm smile.
“Okay.” Amelia left with the rose bouquet she’d brought.
On the drive home, it suddenly hit her–Landon had known about Pinecrest all along. He’d been guiding her here deliberately. The “old friend” he mentioned—it was Debra’s friend, someone from her past.
The realization left her with a bittersweet ache in her chest but also touched her deeply. Maybe Landon wasn’t as cold–hearted as she’d thought. Since he’d helped her discover the truth, she decided she’d try to be kinder to him going forward.
As for the pregnant woman Amelia had been looking for, she decided to let that matter rest.
The countryside blurred past her window as the scent of roses filled her car. Amelia gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white. “You’ll pay for this, Walter,” she vowed silently. “Every last bit of it.”
At Foster Villa, Pamela slammed the birth certificate onto the desk, her face flushed with rage. “The nerve of the Edwards family,” she spat. “Trying to palm off their illegitimate daughter on the Fosters. It’s a disgrace to our name.”
“Pamela, please—” Sandra fell to her knees, trembling.
“Don’t call me that,” Pamela cut her off sharply. “You’re not even officially married to Zachary yet.” Her eyes narrowed with unveiled contempt. ‘An illegitimate child,’ she thought bitterly. ‘In the Foster family? Over my dead body.’
“Pamela, Amelia’s lying about me.” Sandra cried out desperately.
“You think something like this can be faked?” Pamela scoffed. “Do you take me for a fool, Sandra?”
Sandra’s voice quivered as she realized she couldn’t hide it anymore. “Pamela, I had no idea things would turn out this way.”
“You had no idea? And I’m supposed to believe your parents didn’t know either?” Pamela snapped. “Your whole family is nothing but trouble. First, you played Amelia, and now you’re trying to fool us?”
Sandra shook her head frantically. “Pamela, it’s not like that. What Zachary and I have is real.”
“You love Zachary?” Pamela arched an eyebrow.
“Of course, I do.” Sandra nodded emphatically.
A chilling smile spread across Pamela’s face. “Then you know you can’t destroy his life like this, don’t you?”
“Pamela, what are you saying?” Sandra’s face went pale.
“Leave Zachary,” Pamela said coldly.
“Mom, I’m carrying Zachary’s child,” Sandra whispered, the color draining from her face.
“Then terminate it.” Pamela’s voice was callous, devoid of emotion.