A woman who looked eerily like Debra strode into the room in sleek black heels. She had the same sharp brows, porcelain skin, and confident smile as Debra.
Dressed in a tailored black pencil dress with a slim brown belt cinching her waist, she carried herself like royalty.
"Mrs. Houston," the woman said, extending a hand with a smile that felt like a twisted reflection.
Debra bristled. It was like staring into a funhouse mirror.
She ignored the handshake, turning instead to Juan with a glare. "What games are you playing?"
Juan shrugged. "The truth's right in front of you."
"What truth?" a shareholder snapped. "You think some knockoff can waltz in here and match our boss?"
"What are you up to?" another echoed. "Explain yourself."
The wavering partners hung back, watching the chaos unfold.
The woman raised her chin. "The truth is, I'm the real Debra. I was kidnapped as a child and taken abroad. After I escaped, my adoptive father raised me. I've spent years searching for my parents, and now I've found them."
Silence thickened.
Ben was worried. "Madam..."
Debra's stony expression said everything.
Unconvinced, Alexander spoke up. "So what? A lot of people don't remember anything before seven. That proves nothing."
Vickie unclasped a necklace, revealing a sapphire pendant. Debra's eyes locked onto the gem.
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