Living room.

    Everyone else had already left.

    Rupert put down his phone and lit a cigarette with a cool indifference.

    Tristan turned to look at him. "Was it you who brought Lester here?"

    "No." Rupert''s voice was t, almost distant. "Didn''t I already do exactly what you

    asked?"

    "You-" Tristan red, his brow furrowing.

    Rupert flicked his ash into the tray, his icy eyes narrowing just a bit. "Dad, don''t

    get worked up. Take care of yourself."

    With that, he turned and walked off.

    Tristan was so furious he nearly lost his footing-thank goodness the butler

    hurried forward to steady him.

    "You alright, sir?"

    "That troublemaker can''t be allowed to stay! Go!" Tristan growled, jaw clenched.

    "But, Mr. Edwin-" the butler started, clearly anxious.

    "Haven''t you heard the saying ''out with the old, in with the new''? Men are all the

    same in the end."

    Tristan let out a cold, bitterugh.

    "Yes, sir. I''ll take care of it right away."

    ...

    On the way back, Sylvia stayed silent, her fingers clenched tightly around her

    bottle of water.

    Suddenly, Lester reached over and gently took the bottle from her hands. He

    twisted the cap open and handed it back.

    "Here. Take a drink. Might help calm your nerves."

    Sylvia nodded and took a sip before realizing she hadn''t thanked him.

    "Mr. Sanford, thank you for earlier. But I swear, my mom and I never switched out

    the real thing for a fake."

    "I believe you," Lester said quietly, but with conviction.

    Sylvia was caught off guard. The words she''d been about to say just melted away.

    She managed a small smile.

    But the more she smiled, the more bitter she felt inside.

    So trust could be this simple? No one rushing to judge her, no usations right

    off the bat.

    Sylvia lowered her head, her eyes blurring with tears she didn''t want anyone to

    see.

    Lester reached out and gently patted her head. "It''ll be okay. I promise."

    Sylvia wanted to believe that too.

    Maybe the $300,000 in Naomi''s ount would be the breakthrough they needed.

    But reality hit hard, and fast.

    Just as they pulled up to her apartment building, Sylvia''s phone rang. She hadn''t

    even opened the car door yet.

    It was Edwin, his voice frantic on the other end.

    "My-my mom fell down the stairs. She''s unconscious. I don''t know what to do."

    Sylvia looked at Lester, her eyes wide and brimming with tears, her whole world

    copsing.

    Lester hesitated only a second, then reached over and took her trembling hand in

    his.

    "Don''t be afraid."

    "Zion, drive to the hospital. Now."

    ...

    At the hospital.

    Sylvia rushed into the room just as Naomi was being wheeled back from the

    examination.

    Her mother''s once-proud face was pale as paper, nothing like her usual self.

    Normally, Naomi wouldn''t even let a backache stop her from putting on a little

    lipstick. But now-now, no matter what they did, she wouldn''t wake up.

    "Mom," Sylvia called, her voice breaking, hoarse and raw as if stuck in her throat.

    On the other side of the bed, Edwin

    tried to sound upbeat. "Sylvia, don''t

    panic. The doctor said she didn''t

    hurt anything vital-just a

    concussion. She''ll wake up."

    He clung to Naomi''s hand like a lifeline, never letting go.

    Sylvia bit her lip, eyes stinging, knowing deep down this hadn''t been some

    random ident.

    Naomi was out cold. No way to testify.

    So that $300,000-she and her mom would be the ones to take the fall for it.

    How could they be so ruthless?

    Why did it have to be this cruel?

    The door swung open. Rupert and Tristan strode in, trailing a small entourage.

    Behind them were Reese and Kay.

    Edwin was the first to react. He

    looked straight at his assistant,

    demanding, "Didn''t I tell you to bring

    in everyone who was there at the

    house? Where are they?"

    "Mr. Edwin..." The assistant looked flustered, eyes darting nervously toward

    Tristan.

    Tristan folded his arms behind his

    back, frowning as he nced at

    Naomi on the bed. "I let them go. If

    they can''t even care for someone

    properly, what''s the point keeping

    them around?"

    Edwin''s nostrils red. "You let them go-or did you just make them disappear?"

    Tristan''s expression darkened. "Is that really your tone with me? I''m only trying to

    stand up for Naomi here, aren''t I?"