"She's your mother!"
Old Mrs. Margaret's words hung in the air like a physical presence. I stared at her, unable to form a response as my mind raced to make sense of her claim.
"I—what?" I finally managed to stammer. "Mrs. Ricardo, there must be some mistake."
The elderly woman shook her head firmly, her eyes clear with conviction. "No mistake, dear. You have Evelyn's eyes—those unique, beautiful eyes. And that little mole, right at the corner." She reached up to touch the spot near my eye that had always been my most distinctive feature.
Nathaniel stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Grandmother, you're confused. Evelyn Bella Johnson is not Juliana's mother."
"Of course she is!" Mrs. Ricardo insisted, her voice rising with frustration. "I never forget a face, especially not one as striking as Evelyn's. And this girl is her spitting image!"
