The tension in the mansion remained unbearable long after the dinner party fiasco.
Stephen had locked himself in his room, refusing to come out. The embarrassed glances from the household staff were enough to crush what little pride he had left. Desmond hadn't spoken a word since the incident. His silence spoke volumes. And Cinderella? She was a whirlwind of emotions—vindicated, yes, but weary.
The truth was slowly unraveling, and it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.
Desmond sat in his study that night, staring into the fireplace though there was no flame. His mind was crowded with echoes—Caroline's laughter, Cinderella's anger, Rebecca's lies, Stephen's entitled outburst. The image of his once-perfect family had shattered into fragments. And he could no longer pretend the cracks weren't there.
He reached into a drawer and pulled out Caroline's old diary—Cinderella had handed it to him after the confrontation, her expression unreadable.
"You might want to read this. Then you'll understand everything."
He flipped through the pages again, his heart heavy with guilt. Caroline's pain was scribbled in ink: her suspicions, her heartbreak, her isolation. Desmond read each line with shaking hands.
Then he found it—a passage he had skipped before.
> "Rebecca's become bolder. She walks around this house like she owns it. Desmond doesn't see it—he thinks I'm imagining things. But I know her smile is fake. I feel like a ghost in my own home."
Tears stung his eyes.
How could he have missed this?
He stood up suddenly, the diary slipping from his lap. Enough was enough. The truth needed to come out—even if it destroyed everything.
He left the study and climbed the stairs, his steps slow but deliberate. He walked past Stephen's room, past Cinderella's door where the light still glowed faintly underneath, and stopped in front of the master bedroom.
He didn't knock.
He pushed the door open and found Rebecca sitting by the vanity, brushing her hair like nothing had happened.
She looked up, startled. "Desmond? It's late."
Desmond stepped in, closing the door behind him. "We need to talk."
Her brush stilled. "Can it wait till morning?"
"No."
She studied him for a moment, then slowly set the brush down. "Alright. What's going on?"
"I want the truth," he said, voice steady but cold. "All of it. No more lies, Rebecca."
She folded her arms. "About what?"
"About Caroline. About you. About everything."
Rebecca's face hardened. "You're letting Cinderella poison your mind again."
Desmond's voice rose slightly. "She didn't poison my mind. She opened my eyes."
Rebecca's jaw clenched.
"I've read Caroline's journal," Desmond continued. "I know how she felt. I know how isolated she was. I know she didn't trust you—and she had every right not to."
"You're basing everything on a woman's paranoia?" Rebecca snapped.
"No, I'm basing it on the facts—and on your behavior. The way you slithered into this family like a snake. The way you manipulated me, distracted me while my wife was falling apart."
Rebecca rose to her feet. "You think I killed her?"
Desmond's silence was deafening.
Rebecca scoffed. "You're insane."
"Was it an accident?" he asked. "Or did you have something to do with it?"
There was a long pause.
And then—Rebecca laughed. Low and bitter.
"You want the truth?" she said, stepping closer. "Fine. Caroline was weak. She was fading, and she saw me as a threat because I was everything she couldn't be—confident, vibrant, alive. I didn't push her off that road, Desmond. But I didn't exactly stop her from going down it either."
Desmond's heart plummeted. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying she was miserable," Rebecca hissed. "And I made sure she stayed that way. A whisper here, a look there. I didn't need to do much—she was already doubting herself. I just gave the doubts a voice."
"You... gaslighted her," Desmond breathed. "You made her feel like she was going crazy."
"She was already halfway there," Rebecca spat. "And you helped me. You believed me over her every time. You wanted to believe I was the perfect one. So don't act like you're innocent in all this."
Desmond took a step back, his face pale.
Rebecca's expression twisted. "Caroline was in the way. I saw my chance, and I took it. And don't pretend you didn't want her gone, too. We both moved on pretty fast, didn't we?"
A loud knock interrupted them.
Cinderella stood in the doorway, her eyes locked on Rebecca.
"I heard everything," she said quietly.
Desmond turned sharply. "Cinderella—"
But Cinderella stepped in, her voice cold. "I figured she wouldn't confess to you unless she was cornered. So I made sure I was listening."
Rebecca sneered. "Of course you did. You're just like your mother—always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."
"I'd rather be like my mother than a lying, manipulative witch like you," Cinderella snapped.
Desmond looked from one woman to the other, then sank into a chair, his head in his hands. "What have I done…?"
Rebecca scoffed and started walking toward the door. "This house is a joke. And so is your little revenge crusade."
"You're not going anywhere," Desmond said, rising. "You're going to answer for everything."
Rebecca laughed again. "To who? You?"
"No," Cinderella said. "To the authorities."
Rebecca paused.
"I recorded your confession," Cinderella added, holding up her phone. "I suggest you pack a bag. You'll need it."
Rebecca lunged forward, but Desmond stepped between them. "Touch her and I swear—"
Rebecca backed away, glaring. "You're both insane."
Desmond looked her dead in the eye. "You'll pay for what you did to Caroline."
Rebecca said nothing more. She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
For a long moment, silence settled over the room.
Then Desmond turned to his daughter. "I'm so sorry."
Cinderella didn't speak.
"I let her in," he whispered. "I let her destroy us. I didn't believe your mother. I didn't protect her."
"You believed what you wanted to believe," Cinderella replied quietly. "But now you've seen the truth. And it's time we clean up this mess."
He nodded slowly.
Cinderella turned to leave, but he stopped her. "You've grown into someone strong. Just like your mother."
She paused at the doorway, her voice trembling just slightly. "I hope so. Because I'm not done yet."
Then she walked out, leaving Desmond alone with his guilt.
Alone with the confession that shattered the lies he'd built his life upon.