Chapter 87
Sloane's POV
I woke before dawn, my mind spinning from last night. I couldn't sleep at all—just kept staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything. Eloise's confession, Zaid crying, Juan looking like someone punched him in the gut. One night and everything just fell apart.
The house felt wrong when I walked downstairs. Like someone had sucked all the air out of it. Even the morning light looked sad, making everything look gray and depressing.
Juan was already sitting at the dining table when I got there, slouched in his chair like he'd aged twenty years overnight. His eyes were red and puffy, with dark circles underneath. Only two plates were set out—obviously Zaid wasn't coming down.
"Good morning, Sophia," he said, his voice scratchy and rough. That name just hung there in the air, heavy with everything we both knew was a lie.
I sat across from him. The quiet between us was awful. Neither of us even touched our food. How could we eat when everything was such a mess?
Finally, Juan put down his coffee. His hands were shaking a little. "I'm sending Zaid to Eloise's family."
I looked up at him. Of course. How could he look at a kid who reminded him of sixteen years of lies?
"I can't look at him anymore," Juan said quietly. "Every time I see him, I think about the lie I've been living. I know it's not his fault—he didn't do anything wrong—but I just... I can't."
Poor Juan. Eloise trying to destroy one family ended up destroying them all.
Before I could say anything, Zaid ran into the dining room. His face was puffy from crying, his clothes all wrinkled like he'd slept in them—if he'd slept at all. He looked desperate.
"Father, please don't send me away!" he begged, dropping to his knees next to Juan's chair. "Please! I can change my name, I can do whatever you want!"
Juan winced and turned his face away.
"I know I'm not really your son," Zaid's voice cracked, "but you're the only dad I've ever had! This is my home! You're all the family I have!"
He's just sixteen, I thought. Sixteen and losing everything he thought was real.
Juan jumped up, his chair scraping the floor. "I'm sorry, Zaid. I really am. But I can't... the carriage is ready. Eloise's brother will take care of you. You'll get a fresh start there."
"Father, please—"
"Don't call me that!" Juan's voice cracked with pain. "I'm not... you're not..." He couldn't finish.
Zaid looked completely beaten. He stood up slowly, all the fight gone out of him. "I understand," he whispered.
An hour later, he was gone. When the carriage disappeared down the driveway, Zaid looked back one last time. When he saw me through the window, there was no anger in his eyes—just this horrible sadness. Another victim of Eloise's lies.
The house felt huge and empty without him.
Juan called my name as I walked past his study. "Sloane."
I stopped dead. My heart started pounding.
He knows.
"Don't look so shocked," he said, not even turning around from the window. "I've known from day one that you weren't my daughter."
My heart was going crazy. How long has he known? Why didn't he say anything?
"Sophia had a little birthmark on her left wrist," he said, still calm. "You don't. And your eyes... they look similar to hers, but not exactly the same. But mostly, you're just too strong. Too smart. Sophia was sweet, but she never had your guts or your brains."
I didn't know what to say.
Juan finally turned around. "But I need you to stay."
"What?"
"Not as Sophia. As... family. Real family, this time."
He walked back to the window like he couldn't look at me. "I've lost everything, Sloane. My wife, my son, my daughter. If you leave too, this place is just going to be empty rooms and bad memories."
He sounded so lost.
"I'm not asking you to pretend anymore," he said. "I'm asking you to choose to stay. To be part of what's left of this family."
Before I could answer, someone knocked softly. Saskia peeked in, looking scared.
"Sister?" Her voice was tiny. "Are you... going to leave us too?"
Sister. Not Sophia. Just... sister.
"Mom's locked up, and Zaid's gone," she whispered, coming into the room. "If you leave, I'll be all by myself."
Her eyes filled up with tears as she grabbed my hand. Her fingers were cold and shaking. This kid has already lost so much. How can I make it worse?
I looked back and forth between Juan's desperate face and Saskia's scared one. I came here to get revenge, but somehow I ended up being the only thing keeping this broken family together.
"I'll stay," I said finally. "But I have one condition."
Juan nodded right away. "Anything."
"I want to use my real name. Sloane." I squeezed Saskia's hand. "Sophia should rest in peace. Nobody should pretend to be her, not even someone trying to help."
Juan's eyes showed he understood. "You want to be yourself. Not a replacement."
"Exactly. If I'm staying, it's as Sloane—someone who decided to take care of this family. Not as some ghost wearing your daughter's name."
Juan was quiet for a minute, then nodded slowly. "Starting today, you're Sloane Stewart. I'll tell everyone you chose to honor someone important by taking their name."
Saskia smiled through her tears. "I like that name better. Sloane sister."
"Then welcome to the family, Sloane," Juan held out his hand. "For real this time."
When I shook it, something changed inside me. This isn't about lying anymore. It's about choosing. About taking responsibility. About becoming someone new.
That night, I sat at the writing desk in what used to be Sophia's room—my room now. Writing the letter to Alexander was harder than I thought it would be.
My dearest Louis,
I've decided to stay, but not as Sophia's fake replacement. Juan knew all along that I wasn't his real daughter, but he's asked me to stay as myself—as Sloane.
This man has lost everything: his wife went crazy and betrayed him, his son turned out to be a lie, his daughter is dead. He needs someone, anyone, to keep him human. And Saskia—sweet, innocent Saskia—just watched her whole world fall apart in one night. She needs someone stable, someone to protect her, someone to love her.
I know this might mess up our plans, but I can't just abandon them. Maybe this is what I was supposed to find here—not just revenge, but a reason to exist. A chance to protect instead of destroy.
Sophia's name is buried now, where it belongs. I'm Sloane now, completely. Sloane Stewart—not because I was born into it, but because I chose it.
I don't know what's going to happen or how long this will last. When Saskia gets older, when Juan heals, maybe we can think about our own future. Right now, I have people who need me, and maybe that's enough.
I miss you so much, Louis. Please understand that I'm doing this because of love—love for what we had, love for what we might still have, and love for people who don't have anyone else.
Forever yours,
Sloane
I sealed the letter, my fingers tracing the wax. Tomorrow I'd send it, along with this new version of myself.
Through my window, I could see the grounds of what was now my home—not because I lied my way in, but because I chose to stay. I'm not the revenge-seeking Sloane who got here months ago. I'm not the fake Sophia I pretended to be.
I'm Sloane Stewart. And this is my new beginning.