"Rebekah," he began, "since you're not the Fletchers' biological daughter, have you ever thought about finding your real family?"
Rebekah didn't know why he was asking, but she was already on her guard with the old man. She shook her head. "I did for a while, but I never found any leads, so I gave up."
Old Mr. Forrester smiled. "Everyone needs to know their roots. I have ways to help you find your family. If you trust me, you can cooperate."
She hadn't told anyone that she'd already contacted her biological family, except for Jensen. She couldn't tell if Old Mr. Forrester's offer was genuine or if he had ulterior motives. After a moment's thought, she decided to play along.
"Of course I trust you."
"Excellent. I'll need a blood sample to enter into the genetic database. It will speed up the search for your parents."
Rebekah nodded.
As if he had been prepared all along, Old Mr. Forrester had the butler bring in a phlebotomist. Rebekah obediently complied, noticing the 'Forrester Group' logo on the collection tube. She realized the doctor was from a private hospital funded by the company and made a mental note of its name. She would have to investigate later and find out what game Old Mr. Forrester was really playing.
"I know you've been wronged tonight, my dear," he said kindly. "Rest assured, I will see that justice is done for you."
Rebekah offered a noncommittal reply and returned to her room.
A short while later, Benjamin knocked on her door. His expression was a complicated mix of pity and affection. "I was impulsive tonight," he said. "We won't get a divorce." His tone was flat, as if he were bestowing a great favor upon her.

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