She always used to scoff—what kind of flowers could Amelia possibly give? She’s just a doctor, right? Whatever she brought had to be some sort of medicinal herb at best.
“Very thoughtful, really.” Mr. Baker didn’t hand the velvet pouch to the butler like usual. Instead, he kept it himself, tucking it away with surprising care.
Amelia smiled, just a hint of mischief in her eyes. “The second gift is a little something—its name is kind of special, too. It’s called the Flying Phoenix.”
The second she said those words, the Watts family all tensed up. Even Hank, who was usually unbothered by anything, couldn’t help but lean in and stare at Amelia.
Kristen almost shot out of her seat.
Hadn’t they already given the Flying Phoenix bronze statue as a gift? Where did Amelia get hers from?
What the hell was she up to now?
Mr. Baker was so excited he actually lost his usual calm. “Quick, let me see!” he urged, his voice shaking with anticipation.
Amelia handed him a plain-looking box, nothing fancy at all.
Mr. Baker barely waited a second. He flipped the box open and carefully lifted out the bronze figurine inside. His legs ached, but he still stood up, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.
Felix, who’d been lounging at the table, jumped up to steady him.
Suddenly, everyone in the ballroom was staring at the bronze in Mr. Baker’s hands.
What kind of treasure could possibly make a collector like him look so overwhelmed?
“Flying Phoenix…” Mr. Baker whispered, turning the bronze over in his hands. His sharp old eyes were suddenly glassy with tears as he looked it over.
Across the room, Kristen clutched Bianca’s arm, her voice low and frantic. “Mom, what’s going on? Didn’t we have the real Flying Phoenix?”
Bianca’s face was tight with worry.
She’d hired expert after expert and every one of them said their Flying Phoenix was genuine. There was no way they were wrong.
Suddenly, Bianca sprang up and pointed at Mr. Baker’s bronze. “Mr. Baker, that Flying Phoenix is a fake! Please—you can’t let yourself be fooled!”
The whole room burst into whispers.


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