Cordelia knew it was a touchy subject, but she believed in honesty above all. "Dad," she said to August, the words spilling out, "you need to know about this."
August was already painfully aware that the child wasn’t Alana's, but her sister's—a stark reminder of his tangled past with two women and two children. "Will Alana ever forgive me?" he wondered.
"Please, don't mention him," August muttered, his eyes fixed on the ground. "Let's not ruin this beautiful evening."
"But Dad..." Cordelia began, wanting to highlight the child's accomplishments, but August cut her off, "Let's talk about something else."
"Oh, right. Dad, Grandpa Seth once talked about a Swiss inheritance. He said he left the keys with you, but you didn’t know what they were for. Did the fake Alana take them?" Cordelia asked, shifting the conversation.
"Yes, I regret not figuring out their purpose sooner. But it doesn’t matter now; I'm not hurting for money. Anyway, what's going on with you and Mr. Evans? My first impression of him was exceptional—almost too perfect," August mused, steering the topic elsewhere.
"Perfect?" Cordelia scoffed as they walked back to the hotel. The man was a master manipulator, she thought. His perfect façade was likely a calculated act, especially around August. If only her father knew the truth about Mr. Evans—how he coldly risked a child's life—would he still think he was flawless?
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