The morning air in the Harper estate was laced with unease. Rebecca sat stiffly in the back seat of the black car that pulled into the city police station. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. She had barely spoken since the dinner where Desmond announced the investigation. Now, the once-confident queen of the household sat in quiet dread, her carefully woven mask beginning to crumble.
Desmond watched her from the study window, his arms crossed over his chest. There had been a time when he had believed every word she said. Loved her. Trusted her. But love, as he now knew, could be poisoned by deceit.
He turned away from the window.
It was time to end this.
Time to let the full truth come out.
And Cinderella… she was ready.
---
Cinderella stood in her room, flipping through a flash drive filled with carefully collected evidence. Caroline's journal had opened the first door. But the rest—the voice recordings, emails, security footage, old letters—those had taken months of silent observation. It had all led to this moment.
Rebecca had done more than betray Desmond. She had created a false narrative that had nearly destroyed Cinderella's life. And now, Cinderella would pull every thread of that web until it unraveled in full view.
She slipped the drive into her bag and headed downstairs.
---
Desmond met her at the front entrance.
"You're ready?" he asked.
Cinderella nodded. "It's time."
They left together.
---
At the police station, Rebecca sat across from Detective Harris. Her hands trembled slightly as he laid out photos—some old, some new—documents, and transcripts.
"We're not accusing you of murder," Harris said, calm and methodical. "But we do believe there is more to Caroline Harper's death than what we originally ruled."
Rebecca scoffed. "This is ridiculous."
Harris didn't flinch. "We'll let the evidence speak."
Rebecca sat back, arms crossed tightly. "You've got nothing."
Just then, Desmond and Cinderella arrived.
Detective Harris gestured for Cinderella to come forward.
She handed him the flash drive. "Everything is here. From the day Caroline died to the week after. Emails, digital diary entries, and audio clips. Including the one where Rebecca admitted she 'took care of the problem' to Penelope."
Rebecca's eyes widened. "You little—!"
"Careful," Harris warned.
Cinderella's voice was steady. "You ruined my life. You turned my father against me. You convinced everyone I was ungrateful, dramatic, mentally unstable… all to cover your own guilt. But not anymore."
Harris inserted the flash drive into his laptop. The first recording played—Rebecca and Penelope, unaware of Cinderella hiding nearby, talking about how everything had been "handled" and Caroline was "no longer a problem."
It wasn't a direct confession.
But it was damning.
Rebecca turned to Desmond. "You're going to believe this? Over me?"
"I believed you over Caroline," he replied coldly. "And I will never make that mistake again."
---
Later that evening, back at the Harper estate, the fallout began.
Stephen barged into Penelope's room, slamming the door shut behind him.
"What the hell is going on? Are you seriously going to stand there and let her drag us all down?"
Penelope was pale, wringing her hands. "I didn't know she said all of that."
"Yes, you did!" Stephen snapped. "You were there! You encouraged it. You helped her manipulate Silvester. And now Cinderella is making us look like villains!"
Penelope broke down, sobbing. "I didn't mean to! I just wanted to be happy!"
Stephen stared at her in disgust. "Happy? You ruined someone else's happiness just to feel important. And now we're both going to pay for it."
He stormed out, leaving Penelope trembling in silence.
---
Meanwhile, Silvester met Cinderella in the garden.
"I heard," he said gently.
She nodded. "It's not over yet. But it's unraveling."
Silvester took her hand. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you. For everything."
Cinderella looked into his eyes. "You don't need to apologize. You were caught in the same web I was. But the truth is freeing us both."
There was a pause, then Silvester said quietly, "I don't want to pretend anymore."
Cinderella blinked. "Pretend what?"
He stepped closer. "That I don't love you."
Her breath caught.
"I've loved you since we were kids," he continued, "but I let my pride, my confusion, and Penelope's manipulations cloud my judgment. I don't care about what anyone says anymore."
Cinderella felt her heart pound. "Are you sure?"
Silvester smiled. "I've never been more sure of anything."
She leaned forward slowly.
And their lips met for the first time.
Not stolen. Not manipulated.
But chosen.
---
Upstairs, Desmond stood in front of a painting of Caroline.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I let her die… and I did nothing."
Cinderella entered, quiet and calm.
"She forgave you," she said softly. "She knew you weren't perfect. But you were hers."
Desmond turned to face her.
"Will you ever forgive me?"
Cinderella nodded. "I already have."
They stood in silence, side by side.
One truth at a time.
One wound at a time.
The web Rebecca had spun was collapsing.
And in its place, a new foundation was being built — one of honesty, healing, and hope.