Chapter 53 The Hidden Bruise
“Enough of this morbid talk,” Marco said with a bright laugh, clapping his hands once. “Let’s change the subject before we all need therapy.”
Leitana turned to him with a small, apologetic smile.
“Mi sorry,” she said softly. “Mi no mean make everybody sad.”
Lafu waved it off. “It’s all okay, sweetheart. Really.”
Stacy nodded, still a little wide-eyed. “Better you asked than whispered behind your back.”
Marco leaned forward again, curiosity sparkling. “So, Mrs Ashbourne… what do you do?”
Leitana shook her head quickly.
“Plis… call mi Leitana.”
Marco and Stacy exchanged a confused look.
“But…” Stacy said slowly, “your name is Avery Hale. Senator Charles Hale’s daughter. That’s what all the papers said when you married the boss.”
Leitana let out a quiet sigh. She had expected this.
To the world, she was Avery—Avery Ashbourne, Ravial’s wife. The name clung to her wherever she went.
Avery was back… but explaining everything felt too big. Too tangled. And she didn’t want to lie anymore. Not to people who had been kind to her.
“Mi Leitana,” she said quietly, eyes dropping to her hands.
“Avery… she mi twin sister.”
Marco’s jaw dropped.
Stacy gasped. “What?”
Leitana nodded, cheeks warming. “Yes. Mi no Avery. Mi Leitana.”
Stacy blinked rapidly. “So… you’re not the boss’s wife? You’re his sister-in-law?”
Leitana’s stomach twisted.
“No,” she said, voice firm—almost possessive, surprising even herself. “He mi husband. Jus’… complicated.”
She didn’t explain further. She couldn’t. She didn’t know how much Ravial wanted shared, and saying her real name already felt like stepping too far.
Marco and Stacy looked seconds away from bursting with questions.
Lafu stepped in smoothly. “Is it really that shocking?” She tilted her head. “Have either of you actually seen Avery Hale in real life?”
They shook their heads.
“Go to her Instagram,” Lafu said. “Right now.”
Both reached for their phones.
Marco tapped first. A video began playing, Avery’s voice bright and confident.
“Get ready with me while I go pick up my new car—”
Leitana’s eyes went wide. She leaned forward, stretching her neck to see.
Marco paused the video on Avery’s face—flawless makeup, sharp smile, polished and glowing.
“Yep,” Marco said, glancing between the screen and Leitana. “Definitely not Avery. You look alike, sure, but… you’re softer. Warmer. And that accent? Totally different.”
Stacy nodded. “No way anyone would mix you up in person.”
Leitana barely heard them.
Her eyes stayed locked on the screen.
“How… how Avery inside di phone?” she whispered, wonder thick in her voice. “She talking… moving…”
They smiled gently, unsurprised.
Stacy asked, “Where are you from?”
“Mi from Vanuatu,” Leitana said, still staring. “Santo Orphanage.”
Marco exhaled. “Okay. I have a lot of questions.”
“Same,” Stacy agreed.
Lafu laughed. “Mind your business, both of you.”
She took the phone from Marco and held it out to Leitana.
Leitana’s eyes widened even more.
The video was paused, Avery frozen mid-smile, mascara wand in hand, young and unreal.
“It’s Instagram,” Lafu explained softly. “A social media app. People share videos and photos. Avery’s an influencer, over ten million followers.”
Leitana blinked. “Influencer?”
“She gets paid to show brands,” Stacy said. “Clothes, makeup, cars.”
Leitana nodded slowly.
Ten million people watching her sister.
A whole world she had never known existed.
The thought made Leitana’s chest feel tight and floaty at the same time. Back at the orphanage, people gathered around one old radio, sharing sound and silence together. Here, millions watched alone, through glass screens, loving someone who didn’t even know their names. It felt strange and lonely in a way she couldn’t explain, like Avery belonged everywhere and nowhere at once.
She held the phone carefully, like it might shatter, thumb hovering above the screen.
And for a moment amid the lights, the noise, the strangers,
she forgot about Celeste Rey,
forgot about the whispers,
and simply watched her twin sister smile at millions of people.
Then she frowned.
The video was paused close on Avery’s face, her smile wide, eyes bright. But Leitana wasn’t looking at the mascara.
She saw it.
A faint yellow discoloration near Avery’s hairline, almost hidden beneath her curls.
Leitana leaned closer, frowning.
Lafu stepped in. “Sweetheart, don’t bring the phone so close—”
Leitana cut her off, lifting the phone toward her.
“Wat dis on mi sister face?” she asked, pointing at the screen.
Marco hurried over. “What? Did my screen crack?”
Lafu took the phone, studied it closely, then looked back at Leitana.
“You have very sharp eyes,” she said. “How did you even notice that?”
Leitana shook her head, unease settling deep in her stomach.
“What’s dat?”
Stacy blurted, “That looks like a bruise, covered with makeup.”
Lafu shot her a sharp glare. Stacy shrank back. “But… that’s what it looks like.”
“A bruise?” Leitana repeated, the word fragile on her tongue.
Marco leaned in. “Yeah. See the yellow-green tone? That’s a fading bruise.”
“And the concealer’s heavy,” Stacy added quietly. “People do that when they don’t want questions.”
Leitana’s chest tightened.
Her finger trembled where it rested against the screen.
“Somebody hit mi sister?” she whispered. “Who do dat?”
Her hands began to shake. Tears gathered fast.
“Mi sister… mi twin…” Her voice cracked. “Somebody hurt her face?”
Lafu gently took the phone from her hands.
“We don’t know for sure,” she said softly. “It could be old. Or an accident…”
But Leitana wasn’t listening.
Tears suddenly spilled freely down her cheeks.
The thought of Aveey being bit was so absurd...but deep down, it was not that surprising.
And Leitana knew why.
Marco and Stacy exchanged worried looks.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Marco said. “We don’t know…”
“What’s going on here?”
Ravial’s voice cut through the space like a blade.
Everyone froze.
He stood near the makeup station, blindfold in place, arms crossed. The room shifted instantly, assistants scattered, voices died, tension snapped tight.
Lafu stepped forward. “Nothing serious, Mr Ashbourne. We were just…”
Ravial was already moving.
In three long strides, he reached Leitana. She was still perched on the tall chair, tears streaking her cheeks, hands clenched in her lap.
He placed a hand at the back of her neck, grounding, his thumb brushing her jaw.
“What happened?” he asked.
His voice was calm. Controlled.
But to everyone else, it sounded dangerous.