When the call ended, the room sank into an awkward, heavy silence. Russell, Blair, and Wade all looked uneasy—because they'd just accused Tilda without a shred of proof. Now that they thought about what Stan had said, the holes in his story were painfully obvious. Still, the second they'd found the tiniest scrap of "evidence," they'd jumped on it, convinced Tilda had leaked the story just to force them into acknowledging her as the real daughter. The truth was simpler. They'd never trusted her. Their blind love for Kyla had shut down every ounce of reason. All it took was one tear from Kyla, and logic went straight out the window. "Tilda, I'm so sorry," Kyla finally said, breaking the silence. Her eyes were red and watery as she stepped closer. "They just wanted to defend me because I looked so upset. This is my fault. If I'd never come into this family, none of this would've happened." She started to bow, voice trembling. "Kyla! What are you doing?!" Wade, standing closest, grabbed her arm. But Kyla didn't stop. "Don't stop me, Wade. This is my fault. If Tilda won't forgive us, I'm not getting up." With a sudden, dramatic drop, she bent at a perfect ninety degrees. Tears spilled down her cheeks and hit the floor. "Kyla, that's enough! Get up!" Russell and Blair rushed forward, flustered and panicked, trying to pull her upright. Her display of guilt and devotion was… convincing. Moving, even. And just like that, every doubt they'd had about her vanished. Of course Kyla couldn't have done something so cruel. How could a sweet, selfless girl like her ever scheme? It had to be someone else."Tilda, we were wrong to accuse you," Russell said firmly. "Don't worry—I'll find out who's behind this and make them pay. Anyone who dares to slander our family won't get away with it." His jaw clenched tight. Nothing angered him more than someone trying to tear apart his "harmonious" family. "You're going to make it right?" Tilda let out a short, sharp laugh. Then another. Until she couldn't stop. It started small but quickly built into full-blown laughter, shaking her shoulders until she had to hold her stomach. Tears slid down her cheeks—not from sorrow, but from how utterly ridiculous this all was. Russell's face darkened. "What's so funny?" Tilda laughed harder. She couldn't help it. Russell's noble declaration to "make things right" had to be the biggest joke she'd ever heard. This was the same man who'd turned on his own daughter without a second thought. The same man who'd rallied the entire family against her—just to protect the adopted one. All because he was terrified the girl they'd abandoned might come back and take even the smallest piece of what they'd given Kyla. They ignored the truth. They blamed her. And now he wanted to make things right? Maybe the old Tilda would've clung to that hope, desperate for their love. But not this Tilda. That naive, gullible girl was gone—buried with her old self. “Mr. Jenson," she said coolly, her tone calm but cutting, "do you really think you ever planned to set things right? Let's be honest—you're just an old man past his prime. How exactly are you going to uncover anything?" The words were sharp, but she felt no guilt. In fact, it felt good. So good. She remembered it all—the bullet she'd taken for him, the smoke filling her lungs as fire closed in, the brutal kick that left her gasping for air. They'd left her there to die.Every memory fueled the fire burning inside her. And she was nowhere near done. No one had ever heard her speak like that before. Even Wade stared at her like she'd lost her mind. What happened to the quiet, obedient sister? The one who used to smile through every insult? Now she was standing there, bold enough to call Russell "an old man past his prime" to his face. "What did you just say?!" Russell exploded, his voice shaking with fury. "I'm your father! You dare talk to me like that? I admitted I was wrong to accuse you, and I apologized. But this attitude—what is it?!” Russell Jenson had never feared anyone in his life—except maybe his wife. Everyone else? They knew better. No one ever raised their voice at him. And now his daughter was challenging him? "Tilda, no matter what, he's still your father. Apologize to him," Blair snapped.She'd felt a flicker of guilt earlier—but not anymore. Not after hearing this. What kind of daughter spoke that way to her own father? After nineteen years away, she came back like this? Disrespectful, bitter—ungrateful. How could someone like her ever be worthy of being their daughter? "Father?" Tilda's lips curled into a cold smirk. "If that's what a father is, then it disgusts me. I won't apologize. And your apology? Keep it. I don't want it." Her eyes blazed—steady, clear, unflinching. Every word hit like a blade. For the first time, she felt like she could actually breathe. Like she was alive again. And surprisingly—it wasn't even hard to say it to their faces. She realized she'd been trapped all these years by the illusion of love.But that illusion was gone now, shattered beyond repair. She didn't want this family anymore. "Tilda!" Russell's voice trembled with rage. If he hadn't already been guilty of falsely accusing her, he might've slapped her right then and there. How had he ended up with such a spiteful, arrogant daughter? What a disgrace. "Tilda, I know you're angry," Kyla said softly, stepping forward again, her eyes brimming with tears. "But please, don't blame Mom and Dad. Blame me. I'll bow to you. I'll leave this house. I'll stay out of your way—if that's what it takes. "If giving back your place makes you happy, then I'll give it back. Just… stop being mad at them." She looked up, eyes wide and trembling, voice sweet as syrup. "Alright then," Tilda said quietly. She gave Kyla a half-smile. "Fine. Walk out of this house, and I'll drop it. You said it, not me."Kyla froze. Was Tilda insane? Then again—she realized this might work in her favor. If she played it right, everyone would just hate Tilda more. Kyla's lips quivered, and she forced out a sob. "I—I understand, Tilda. I'll leave now! As long as I'm gone, this family can finally be at peace. I'm willing to do it!" She turned and bolted upstairs. "Kyla, don't be upset," Blair cried, grabbing her arm. "Tilda's just angry—no one's driving you out!" "Mom, just let me go," Kyla choked out. "This house was never mine. Tilda's your real daughter. I'm just the adopted one." She collapsed in Blair's arms, sobbing so hard her whole body shook. Every word she said hit like a hammer. Each sob tore at their hearts, one by one. "Tilda!" Wade roared. "How could you say that to her?!" The moment they realized she really meant to throw Kyla out, they all snapped. "So this is the real you, huh? You've been waiting for this moment! You just wanted Kyla gone so you could have everything for yourself! "Well guess what? Over my dead body! Kyla's a Jenson—she's my sister!" Wade's glare burned with fury. Looking at him—his face so much like her own—made something twist painfully inside Tilda. For the first time in her life, she hated her face. Even the Jenson blood running through her veins made her sick. But this time, fate had given her a second chance. And she wasn't going to waste it. "You're right," she said softly. "She's your sister. I'm nobody. "I was just a way for you to ease your guilt. A splinter you left in your heart for nineteen years—one you ignored until it started to fester. Bringing me back was just your way of pulling it out."I never mattered." Each word sliced her open from the inside. But for the first time, she didn't feel broken. She felt free. These were truths she'd always known but never had the courage to say. Now, finally, she could. Let them sneer. Let them hate. At least now, the lies were over. Russell's face darkened, his hand trembling in rage. "I know you're hurt and angry right now, but Kyla is innocent! Go to your room and think about how out of line you just were!"