I held my breath as Beatrice stared at the marriage certificate, her fingers trembling slightly against the paper. This was the moment of truth—when she would finally see that I wasn't lying.
"Please, look at it properly," I said softly. "It's genuine."
Before Beatrice could respond, Fiona lunged forward, her face contorted with rage. She snatched the certificate from her mother's hands.
"Enough of this charade!" she shrieked.
In one swift motion, she threw the document to the floor and brought her heel down on it with a vicious stomp. The sound of her designer shoe grinding against the paper echoed in the sudden silence.
"Fiona!" I gasped, dropping to my knees to rescue what remained of my proof. "That's a legal document!"
She laughed, high and mocking. "Legal? There's nothing legal about your pathetic forgery."
