Chapter 287

Stacey rushed to Patrick and Debra, phone in hand. She tapped the photo, revealing it to them. Debra gasped. "You found her so fast?"

Her smile faltered. Patrick's vanished entirely, after reading Hayden's message.

"Maybe it's just a resemblance," Debra murmured. "If she's ordinary, unmarried… we help Charlie. But if she's who we think…" She trailed off.

"Charlie and Claire met in university," Patrick reasoned. "If she's studying here, she's not the Jones heir."

"But she's in Yowhayton," Stacey pointed out.

Silence descended. The coincidence hung heavy. Patrick turned to Stacey. "Becky, ask Hay for more on Kelly."

"Okay," Stacey replied, texting Hayden immediately. He agreed to help, but it would take time. A wave of unease washed over them. If she's the Jones heir… Charlie's chances… single for life?

Hours later, Charlie emerged from his room. The house buzzed with children; he adored them, and they adored him. They swarmed him, and he crouched, embracing as many as he could. He couldn't lift them all without a chorus of disappointed wails—a testament to his popularity.

Three days later, Hayden's message arrived, casting a somber pall. Kelly wasn't raised by the Jones family. She was the daughter of their eldest son, conceived during a Zentiscape visit. Normally, she'd be excluded from the inheritance, but a family feud had wiped out direct heirs. A paternity test confirmed her as the sole heir—Kelly Jones.

The final line: 34, single, unmarried. The Jones family desperately needed her to marry and produce heirs. She refused. Branches mocked the main line, openly supporting her decision. Others pleaded with her.

"Why hasn't she married?" Stacey blurted.

Debra snatched the file. "I'll talk to Chuck," she declared, heading for the garden.

Stacey followed. In the garden, Charlie played with the children. Debra sighed, approaching him. "Chuck, can we talk upstairs?"

Charlie turned, spotting the file. Claire? His heart plummeted. Did they find her? Mom's face… Married? Bitterness welled, but he plastered on a smile—years in entertainment had honed his mask. She’s 34, most people our age… Maybe she's happy.

He followed Debra, smile intact. The children watched, eager to follow, but Stacey intercepted them, keeping them occupied.

Debra led him to the door, then faced him. "Stop pretending," she said, seeing through his act.

His smile cracked, shifting to bitterness, then a strained cheerfulness. "Is she married?"

"No," Debra said flatly.

He started to tell her to leave Claire alone, but stopped, eyes widening. "What did you say?"