Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 73
Celeste’s Residence – Same Night
Luis chattered nonstop through dinner, gesturing wildly with his fork, laughing so hard at his own story that he nearly knocked over his glass twice.
“—and then Jason just FELL, Mama, straight off the bench, because Eloise startled him, and he’s lying there on the ground going ‘I’ve been assassinated’ like the biggest drama queen in—”
He caught Celeste’s eyes across the table, watching him with quiet, knowing amusement, and immediately looked back down at his plate, ears warming.
“So,” Celeste said, drawing the word out slowly, “how’s Hazel?”
“Fine,” Luis said quickly. “She’s fine. We’re just friends.”
“Mm-hm.” Celeste’s smile stretched wider. “Just friends who make you blush every time I say her name.”
“I’m not blushing.”
“Your face and ears say otherwise, baby.”
“MAMA.”
Celeste laughed, delighted, and let him off the hook, though her smile lingered warmly for the rest of the meal.
Bennett’s Mansion – Night
The car pulled into the driveway, and Duane and Ivory sat for several extra minutes inside, hurriedly straightening clothing, smoothing hair, checking each other over with a kind of frantic, giggling efficiency before finally stepping out — the shopping bags from earlier stashed carefully in the trunk to avoid any questions.
They walked in together, and Hazel’s face lit up instantly from the couch.
“You’re back!”
Diana smiled warmly from her chair, and Arthur, glancing up from his newspaper, offered Duane an easy nod of greeting. They all settled around the dining table for a late dinner, conversation flowing comfortably.
Hazel leaned close to Ivory partway through the meal, whispering conspiratorially. “You smell like handsome bro’s cologne.”
“Shut up,” Ivory hissed back, elbowing her lightly, cheeks going pink.
Hazel just grinned, entirely unrepentant, stealing a piece of bread off her sister’s plate as payment for her silence.
Arthur’s phone buzzed loudly against the table, and he glanced at it, frowning, before turning the screen toward the rest of the family.
“You all need to see this.”
The video played — grainy roadside footage, already circulating everywhere, capturing Alice’s full, sobbing confession from the night before.
Ivory’s face darkened as she watched. “That absolute snake,” she muttered. “Poor Maeve. As much as I can’t stand her, nobody deserves to find that out like this.”
Diana watched the footage in silence, something tugging insistently at her memory as the video displayed
She glanced at Duane now, seated across the table, and then back at her phone, studying the resemblance without quite understanding why it mattered so much.
That’s it, she thought slowly. That’s exactly the face I couldn’t place. Mr. Hale’s face. In him.
She said nothing. Not yet. It felt too strange, too impossible, to say out loud.
Duane, unaware of her scrutiny, felt something anyway — a faint, inexplicable unease settling in his chest that he couldn’t fully name.
Mama adopted me from an orphanage, he thought, turning the thought over slowly. She never told me anything about where I came from before that. I never really asked.
He shook the feeling off and returned his attention to his plate, though it lingered stubbornly at the back of his mind for the rest of the night.
Hope Orphanage – Same Night
The office sat cramped and dusty, filing cabinets stacked floor to ceiling, decades of paperwork crammed into every available drawer. The elderly director moved slowly between them, pulling folder after folder, adjusting her glasses each time she squinted at another faded label.
“Twenty-eight years is a long time,” she said apologetically, setting another empty folder aside. “Our records from that era weren’t digitized. I’m sorry, this is going to take time.”
“We have time,” Mr. Hale said tightly, though his knee bounced with barely contained impatience. “Keep looking.”
Mrs. Hale sat rigid in her chair, hands clasped so tightly together her knuckles had gone white, watching every folder the director pulled with desperate, exhausted hope.
Hours passed. Nothing.
“Please,” Mrs. Hale said quietly, voice cracking. “Please, keep searching. He’s out there somewhere. He has to be.”
The director nodded, exhausted herself, and pulled another stack of folders down, continuing the search as the night wore on toward daybreak, still with nothing to show for it.
Bennett’s Mansion – The Next Morning
Duane and Ivory emerged from their respective rooms at nearly the same moment, and he caught her by the wrist the instant she stepped into the hallway, pulling her against him and claiming her mouth before she could even greet him properly.
“Duane,” she laughed against his lips, though she made no effort to pull away.
He pinned her gently against the wall instead, thoroughly, unhurriedly kissing the breath out of her.
Hazel’s door creaked open a crack down the hall, and her horrified whisper carried clearly across the space. “MY INNOCENT EYES. I need to wash them with holy water—” The door slammed shut again immediately after.
Diana rounded the corner a moment later and cleared her throat, sharp and pointed.
Duane and Ivory sprang apart instantly, Ivory’s face flooding crimson, staring hard at the floor as if it might mercifully open up and swallow her whole.
Diana simply smiled, warm and knowing, and continued on down the hall without a word, giving them their privacy.
The moment she was gone, Duane’s eyes had already drifted back half-closed, leaning in again.
Ivory pressed a palm flat against his mouth, holding him at bay, though she was laughing too hard to fully commit to stopping him.
Alice’s Private Residence – Morning
Maeve sat alone on the cold room floor, knees drawn to her chest, sobbing until her whole body ached from it.
My life is ruined, she thought, over and over, the words looping endlessly. All because I wanted to be better than Ivory. All because I couldn’t stand watching her win.
A sharp knock sounded at the front door.
“Maeve.” Curtis’s voice, muffled through the wood, thick with tears. “Maeve, please, open the door. Please, let me explain—”
She didn’t move.
“MAEVE. Please.”
She pressed her hands over her ears instead, curling tighter into herself.
He’s still the same man who did this to me, she thought bitterly. The same man who infected me. Nothing he says now changes that.
The knocking continued for a long time but Maeve didnt answee.
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