Emily glanced over at her. “It’s not time yet,” she said quietly.
Emma nodded, though she wasn’t sure she understood. She thought about saying something else, but kept quiet and followed Emily out of the ballroom.
On the other side of the room, Mrs. Austin was still fuming. “Emily Blair is unbelievable. How dare she pretend to be my daughter? I can’t believe I even wasted my time arguing with them. I really shouldn’t have.”
She looked furious. “If I see her again, I won’t even acknowledge her. Not even a glance.”
Mr. Austin listened as his wife vented, but inside, his thoughts were going in a different direction.
He waited until she finished, then spoke in a calm, low voice. “They seemed so sure of themselves. If they were lying, it’d be easy to catch them in it. Emily Blair managed to build a whole company from the ground up. She doesn’t seem like the type to tell such an obvious lie.”
Mrs. Austin immediately picked up on his meaning. Her brow furrowed, and she pulled her arm away from his.
“What are you getting at?”
Her tone was icy, but after a slight pause, Mr. Austin went on anyway.
“What if they’re telling the truth? What if Emily Blair really is our daughter?”
Her whole expression shifted. She stared at him, eyes sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you on their side now?”
He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle pat. “I know you have issues with Emily because of what happened with Isabella, but just try to think about it. This isn’t the first time Emma George has come to us. She’s been persistent. There has to be a reason. No one who’s just making stuff up would keep coming back like this. And she knew that Isabella wasn’t our biological daughter. Only our family knows that. How could Emma George possibly know?”


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