Chapter 3
Chapter 3 Ready
Three mornings later, Emily woke at her usual hour, finished her morning routine in quiet efficiency, and headed downstairs for breakfast as always.
An empty hush lingered inside the dining hall, with no other family members in sight. Charlotte had left with Margaret to try on her custom engagement gown, while Richard headed out early for a weekly golf outing, per the household staff.
A half-empty glass of cold milk and a leftover half plate of club sandwiches sat abandoned on the long dining table.
Slipping into a chair, Emily took a small bite of the sandwich before her phone buzzed with a new online message.
The sender did not exist in her contact list. A cat served as the profile picture, with the username "Urban Stray Kitten".
Only a single web link filled the message box.
One tap opened the page.
It was a viral post on the city's largest local social forum, its bold, heavy headline glaring across the screen: [The Truth Behind the Hamilton Family's "Sponsored Distant Relative". What Dark Secrets Is She Hiding?]
The post went into crazy detail.
It was basically a full-on biography.
[Her name is Emily Hamilton. Labeled a distant orphan ward taken in by the Hamiltons, she has lived under their roof her entire life, fed, clothed, and sheltered at the family's expense. Any reasonable person would be grateful, yet she holds nothing but hidden resentment.]
[During the Hamilton Annual Charity Gala, she fixed cold, unsettling stares on the family's legitimate heiress, Charlotte, the entire night, making every guest within reach uneasy. When approached for polite small talk, she brushed people off with arrogance and rudeness.]
[Worse still, she has tried pursuing Charlotte's fiancé. Andrew, heir of the powerful Grant family, is formally engaged to Charlotte. Even so, Emily orchestrated deliberate run-ins at the gala, desperate to draw his attention.]
[Calculating and morally corrupt, this ungrateful young woman is nothing but a poisonous viper sheltered and fed by the kind-hearted Hamiltons.]
Dozens of hostile comments flooded the comment section below, unified in vicious condemnation.
[Disgusting. No one should leech off wealthy families with such greedy schemes.]
[Charlotte is truly kind and pure-hearted to keep such a snake under her roof.]
[She pretends to be weak and pitiful to gain sympathy, but she is nothing more than a manipulative schemer.]
[The Hamiltons should cast her out without hesitation at once.]
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
Three quiet seconds later, Emily closed the tab, locked her phone, and set it aside without a single outward reaction.
*****
At three o'clock in the afternoon, Emily stepped out of the estate.
She planned to visit the Municipal Archives to hunt for critical paperwork. Per David's tip, duplicate copies of old vital record revisions might be stored in City Hall's archived files, a slim lead worth pursuing.
A taxi dropped her off in the city center. Avoiding the main front desk crowd, she entered the archives building through a rear entrance and climbed the stairs straight to the third floor.
The archive room door stood ajar. Only one lone clerk remained on duty, sorting stacks of documents.
"Good afternoon. I need to access vital record revision dating back twenty years," Emily greeted softly as she walked forward.
The clerk lifted his head, eyes lingering on her face with obvious scrutiny. "Which family?"
"The Hamilton family."
A visible flinch crossed the man's features. He lowered his voice at once. "You wouldn't happen to be the girl from that online post..."
Unspoken suspicion hung thick in his gaze as he sized her up from head to toe.
"I am only here to review official archives," Emily replied in a steady, unwavering tone.
"Right, of course." The clerk snapped back to professionalism, though his expression remained guarded. "All archive requests require government ID and proof of kinship. Do you have valid identification?"
"I have my ID card," Emily said.
"Then fill out this form first," the staff member said.
Taking the slip of paper, Emily bowed her head to fill in every required field.
The clerk's heavy, judging stare never left her skin, cold and invasive.
It felt like being laid bare on a butcher's block, picked apart, and judged by strangers' biased assumptions.
Once finished, she handed the completed form back.
The staff member glanced at it and said, "Wait here. I'll pull the file for you."
Turning on his heel, he vanished into the locked inner archive vault, the door clicking shut behind him.
Emily stood there, waiting quietly.
Faint conversation drifted over from two passing female staff members, their whispers sharp and unmissable.
"That's her, isn't it? The Hamilton girl everyone's talking about online."
"Exactly the one. I read that post. Total master of manipulation and fake innocence."
"How dare she show her face in public after everything?"
"She has zero shame, plain and simple."
Emily's fingers tightened around the hem of her clothes.
Three slow seconds later, she relaxed her hold.
Ten minutes later, the clerk reemerged from the vault with a thin manila folder in hand.
He said, sliding the folder across the desk, "I found the Hamilton family's twenty-year-old affiliation revision file.
"The original documentation has been removed, however. Only this single registration sheet remains on file."
"Removed?" Emily's brows drew together in quiet surprise.
The clerk replied, his tone kind of weird, "Yeah. Maybe someone took it or moved it somewhere else. Stuff like this has happened before."
Emily leaned in to examine the paper.
Barely one page long, it listed basic details.
[Head of Household: Richard Hamilton]
[Registration Type: Addition of Adopted Child]
[Child Information: Charlotte Evans, Female, 2 Years Old, Adopted Child]
[Date of Change: XXXX-XX-XX]
The critical entry stood clear and unaltered—marked officially as adopted daughter, not biological child.
This single sheet alone proved Charlotte's true origins, yet it was far from enough.
The current legal paperwork listed her as Richard's legitimate biological daughter.
Some hidden, unauthorized file alteration had erased the old label and rewritten her identity entirely.
"Are there any official duplicates of the original revision records?" Emily asked.
The staff member replied, sizing her up, "In theory, yeah. But you'd have to dig through the old archives at City Hall. No one's set foot in there for years. It's basically gathering dust."
"Where is it?" Emily pressed.
"It's in the old neighborhood on the west side of town. The basement of the old City Hall."
"Thanks," Emily said.
Tucking the registration sheet into her bag, she turned toward the exit.
Just before stepping outside, the clerk's voice called out to her in a hushed, cautious tone. "Ms. Hamilton?"
She paused in place, yet refused to glance back.
"Take a word of warning. Stay far away from the Hamilton family's internal affairs. Some people hold far too much power, and you cannot afford to cross them," he murmured.
Without replying, Emily pushed open the door and stepped out.
*****
After leaving the Municipal Archives, Emily didn't head home.
She found a nearby cafe instead, ordered a black coffee, and settled into a corner booth.
Her phone buzzed again.
It was another notification from "Urban Stray Kitten."
This time, a new forum link popped up.
The title read: [Another Ugly Side of the Hamilton Family's Ungrateful Freeloader: Not Just Seducing Fiancés, but Also Snooping into Family Secrets?]
The post detailed: [Emily was spotted at the Municipal Archives this afternoon, apparently digging into the Hamilton family's lineage records. After everything they've done for her, she's still trying to uncover their past? What's her real agenda?]
The comments below were even uglier.
[Trying to smear the Hamiltons, isn't she? What a piece of work.]
[Someone should call the cops. She's downright dangerous.]
Emily set her phone down, her fingers cold.
She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip.
The bitterness spread across her tongue; she hadn't added any sugar.
A new message alert chimed.
This one wasn't from "Urban Stray Kitten", but an unfamiliar number.
It contained a single line: [I know the truth. I'm willing to testify.]
Her hand froze mid-air.
After a three-second pause, she typed back: [Who is this?]
The reply came swiftly: [Twenty years ago, I was a nurse in the maternity ward at City Central Hospital. I saw the original birth record.]
Emily's heartbeat quickened.
She asked: [What proof do you have?]
The reply came, slower now, as if each word was carefully chosen.
It read: [I remember that day. Mrs. Margaret Hamilton gave birth to a daughter. The name on the birth certificate was Emily Hamilton. I also remember that the baby had a birthmark on her left ankle. Red, shaped like a maple leaf.]
Emily's gaze dropped instinctively to her own left ankle.
There, just above the bone, was a small, red birthmark.
The shape unmistakably resembled a maple leaf.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe.
She asked: [How can I believe you?]
[I can meet you. We can talk in person.]
Emily fired back: [When?]
The sender replied: [Tonight at eight. Old neighborhood on the west side of town, at the entrance to the records room in the old City Hall building.]
Emily asked: [Why are you helping me?]
The sender was silent for a long time.
Then, the final message appeared. [Because I remember that baby. I held her when she was born. And then she disappeared. I've always wondered what happened to her.]
Emily's grip tightened around her phone.
On the screen, the words "I'm willing to testify" seemed to glow with a faint, persistent light.
*****
At eight o'clock that night, right on schedule, Emily stepped into the aging westside district.
It was a run-down neighborhood, with narrow streets and buildings that looked like they'd seen better days.
Narrow, worn streets wound past aged, weather-beaten buildings. At the neighborhood's far end stood the defunct Old City Hall, a three-story structure with boarded windows and sealed entryways, bright caution tape strung tight across its front doors.
Slipping around the barrier, she circled to the rear of the building and found a side door left slightly ajar.
A soft push opened the way forward, and narrow stairwells led her down into the quiet basement.
Faint light seeped through a narrow crack in the archive room door.
She stepped inside with slow, cautious movement.
A woman in her sixties stood alone in the dim space. Slender and pale-featured, she wore a plain gray trench coat, with silver streaks woven through her faded hair.
The moment her eyes landed on Emily, her gaze lingered, fixed and unblinking for a long stretch of time.
"You look just like her. Just like Margaret," the woman said in a low, husky voice.
"You are..." Emily started.
"My name is Susan Miller. Twenty years ago, I worked as the head nurse in the obstetrics ward at City Central Hospital," she replied steadily.
Emily drew in a slow, deep breath. "You're truly willing to testify for me?"
"I am." Susan nodded firmly. "I will never forget that night. Margaret gave birth to a baby girl, and I held that child in my own arms. A small birthmark marked her ankle; a detail I could never mistake."
"What happened afterward?"
Susan's expression clouded with sorrow. "The next morning, a middle-aged man arrived at the hospital, claiming to be the Hamilton family's butler. He demanded the original birth certificate, saying he needed it to finalize official legal documentation for the girl."
"And what about Charlotte? When did she show up?"
"I don't know," Susan shook her head. "All I know is, the baby they took away was Margaret's real daughter."
"How do you know it's really me?" Emily asked.
Susan's eyes softened, a faint tremor running through her tone. "Your birthmark. And your eyes.
"I watched that newborn open her eyes moments after I held her. Clear and deep enough to see straight into someone's heart. Those very same eyes look back at me now."
A heavy silence settled over Emily before she finally spoke, "Do you know anything about altered vital record filings from two decades ago?"
"I've heard rumors. After I retired, former hospital colleagues mentioned bribes taken by county record staff, and how key birth and adoption documents had been illegally revised."
"What about the evidence?" Emily asked.
"Section B, third aisle, file number J-203. That archive holds the untouched original record of the amendment, a county backup file that was never destroyed or tampered with," Susan shared without hesitation.
"How do you know that?"
"My niece works in the municipal records department. She told me that the backup file is still there, just filed away in a spot nobody really notices," Susan explained.
Emily took a deep breath as she felt sweat in her palms.
"Thank you," she said.
Susan said, meeting her gaze, "Don't thank me. I just want to know what became of that child."
"She's still here. She's alive and well," Emily replied softly.
Teary-eyed, Susan nodded once.
She offered no more words, then turned and walked away.
*****
Nine o'clock arrived as Emily crossed back into the Hamilton Estate grounds.
She entered through a side entrance and followed empty hallways toward her room.
On the second floor, warm lamplight peeked through a crack in Charlotte's bedroom door.
Muffled chatter drifted out, unmistakably Charlotte chatting away on a phone call.
"Every post has been sent out... yes, the reaction's exactly what I hoped for... Mom, don't worry, not a single trace can be linked back to us. She brought all this on herself; no one else is to blame."
Emily never slowed her pace.
She continued down the corridor, stepped into her own room, and closed the door firmly behind her.
Complete darkness filled the room.
She left the lights off entirely, crossing to the window and pulling the curtain apart into a thin slit.
Pale silver moonlight spilled over the floor.
Emily lifted her phone and dialed David's number.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Stone, it's me," she said.
"Ms. Hamilton?" There was a hint of surprise in David's voice. "You're calling this late?"
"I found a witness."
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Finally, he asked, "Who is it?"
"The former head obstetrics nurse from City Central Hospital, on staff twenty years ago. She's agreed to official testimony. She also told me where the sealed backup vital records are stored."
"Where is it?"
"Old City Hall basement archives, Section B, third aisle, file J-203," Emily replied.
Two seconds of quiet hesitation came from David's end.
Then, he asked, "You're certain this file still exists undamaged?"
"I'm sure. The witness told me it's definitely still there," Emily replied.
"Alright. I'll have someone go get it," David replied, his voice steady.
"There's one more thing," Emily said.
"Go ahead."
"For three days, targeted slander and malicious rumors have spread about me across local forums and social media. I've saved screenshots and compiled solid evidence of every attack," Emily said, keeping her voice calm.
"What do you want to do about it?" David asked.
"I'll keep it for now. When the time comes, I'll deal with them all together," Emily replied.
"Alright," David said.
Cold, unyielding sharpness laced David's next words. "Ms. Hamilton, your evidence chain is nearly complete."
"I know," Emily replied.
"Are you ready?"
Emily stood by the window, looking out into the dark night.
Emily's voice stayed soft, yet every syllable carried unbreakable resolve. "Yes. I'm ready to start."
The call ended.
She set her phone down on the desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out the image of the old vital record amendment file.
Faint moonlight glinted across the paper's surface.
"You stole twenty years of my life. I will make you spend every remaining day paying me back," Emily murmured.