Chapter 18 - Amelia’s VoiceThe courtroom speaker crackled once.
Then Amelia Vance came back from the dead.
Her voice was soft, tired, and unmistakably afraid.
“If this is ever played,” she said, “then something has happened to me, and someone finally believed me.”
Marcus gripped the edge of the table.
Elena watched his shoulders fold inward as though the voice had struck him harder than any accusation.
Amelia continued.
“Victoria has been bringing tea from Celeste. I stopped drinking it two days ago. Celeste noticed. She told me fear makes women ugly. Victoria cried afterward and said I was making everyone uncomfortable.”
Victoria’s face had gone white.
The judge leaned forward.
On the recording, Amelia breathed shakily.
“I don’t think Victoria understands everything her mother is doing. But she understands enough. She wants my life. She wants my husband’s name. I heard her tell Celeste that if I died, Leo would still need a mother.”
A sob escaped Margaret.
Marcus did not move.
Then another voice appeared on the recording.
Victoria’s.
You should rest, Amelia. Marcus hates seeing you like this.
Amelia’s voice, weaker now: What is in the tea?
Victoria laughed softly on the recording.
Don’t be dramatic.
Then Celeste’s voice entered, cold and clear.
Drink it, Amelia. You owe this family a healthy child.
The courtroom went silent.
The recording ended.
No one moved.
Victoria’s attorney looked as though he wanted the floor to open beneath him.
The judge removed her glasses.
“Mrs. Vance,” she said, “did you know this recording existed?”
Victoria shook her head, tears spilling.
“No.”
But the answer no longer mattered the way it had an hour earlier.
The judge turned to Marcus’s attorney.
“Submit the file.”
Then she looked at Victoria.
“Pending further investigation, I am denying emergency custody. Leo Vance will remain with his father. Mrs. Vance is prohibited from contact with the child.”
Victoria stood abruptly.
“No.”
The judge’s face hardened.
“Sit down.”
“No! You can’t do this. He is all I have left!”
Marcus finally turned.
“He was never yours to use.”
Victoria stared at him.
Something in her expression broke—not into remorse, but into rage.
“You think Elena won?” she hissed. “You think your dead wife won? None of you know what Mother already set in motion.”
The detective moved toward her.
Victoria laughed, wild and sharp.
“She said if this family tried to destroy us, she would destroy the bloodline.”
Margaret froze.
Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
Victoria smiled through tears.
“She knows where the original donor records are. And she knows how to make them disappear.”
Elena’s heart lurched.
The detective took Victoria by the arm.
She looked back once, straight at Elena.
“You should have stayed a maid.”
Then she was led away.
Outside the courthouse, cameras exploded with flashes.
Marcus, Elena, and Margaret returned to the estate under police escort.
But victory did not feel like victory.
Because when they reached the nursery, Mrs. Hale was standing in the doorway, pale as paper.
“The agency called,” she whispered.
Elena’s throat tightened.
“What agency?”
Mrs. Hale looked at Marcus.
“The fertility agency.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“What happened?”
May you like
Mrs. Hale’s voice shook.
“The building caught fire this morning.”
