Chapter 22 Chapter 22
"Even if I were your daughter," she said carefully, "I don't know what that would mean for my life now. I have a life that I have built for myself, four very rebellious kids, brothers that have always looked up to me, and I’m here on a scholarship, if they thought I got here under false pretences. Not only that, how would I look if a person found out I entered your competition to find out that I’m really the daughter that it's meant to commemorate people will be live, it was either staged or rigged.”
Richard Lawson leaned forward, his eyes reflecting decades of loss and newfound hope. "Those are all valid concerns, Miss Maxwell. But they're practical matters that can be addressed. What I hope you understand is that, regardless of competitions or scholarships or public perception, finding you, if you are indeed our Roxanne, would mean everything to our family."
Iris swallowed hard, her analytical mind struggling to process the emotional weight of his words. The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable, yet accepting his theory would upend every certainty in her life.
"I ordered a DNA test yesterday," she admitted, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil. "I thought it would put these coincidences to rest once and for all."
Theodore exchanged a meaningful glance with his father. "That would certainly provide definitive answers."
"But we don't need to wait for that," Bryce interjected, sliding a small case across the table. "We came prepared."
Iris eyed the case warily. "What is that?"
"A rapid DNA test," Bryce explained, his enthusiasm breaking through his attempt at professional detachment. "I've been developing it with our company's research division. Results in under an hour."
From his position near the entrance, Tony watched the exchange with growing concern. He could see the Lawsons' eagerness, their barely contained hope, and Iris's increasing tension despite her composed exterior. He wanted to go to her, to stand beside her through this, but knew his presence might only complicate matters further.
His attention was suddenly diverted by movement at the library's main doors. His parents strode in, flanked by two security personnel attempting to look like ordinary visitors. Tony's stomach dropped. This was exactly what he had feared, his parents inserting themselves into a delicate situation, determined to control the outcome.
At the Lawson table, Victor noticed the newcomers immediately, his military-trained senses alerting to potential threats. "We have company," he murmured to Theodore, tilting his head slightly toward the entrance.
Theodore followed his brother's gaze, his expression hardening when he recognised Julius and Helga Kennedy. "Father," he said quietly, "the Kennedys are here."
Richard Lawson's shoulders stiffened, but he kept his focus on Iris. "Miss Maxwell, I apologise for the interruption, but it appears we have some unexpected guests. The Kennedys are business associates of our family, with whom we have a... complex relationship."
Iris turned to look just as Helga and Julius approached the table, Tony trailing behind them with a mixture of frustration and resignation on his face. Seeing him there, caught between his parents and her, Iris felt a surprising surge of protectiveness. For all his mistakes, he had tried to warn her, to prepare her for this moment.
"Richard, what a delightful coincidence," Helga Kennedy said, her voice honey-sweet though her eyes remained calculating. "We had no idea you would be here. We were coming to meet the young woman that our son seems to have developed feelings for. I’ve seen your work, dear. I can see why my son has grown feelings for you over the past couple of months.”
Richard Lawson's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at Helga Kennedy's interruption. After two decades of searching for his daughter, having this moment potentially corrupted by the Kennedys' machinations filled him with a cold fury he carefully contained.
"Helga, Julius," he acknowledged with a slight nod. "Your timing is... remarkable."
Iris glanced between the two families, her analytical mind quickly processing the undercurrents of tension. The Lawsons had gone rigid, their earlier warmth replaced by guarded vigilance. Tony looked miserable, caught between his parents and her.
"Miss Maxwell," Julius Kennedy said, extending his hand with practised charm, "it's a pleasure to meet you. Our son has spoken highly of your talent."
Iris shook his hand briefly, her expression neutral. "Thank you, Mr Kennedy."
Helga's gaze swept over the small case on the table, the rapid DNA test Bryce had offered. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose slightly, the only indication of her interest.
"I see we're interrupting something important," she said, her tone suggesting she had no intention of leaving.
Theodore stood, his protective instincts flaring. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation privately, Miss Maxwell?"
Before Iris could respond, Tony stepped forward, finally finding his voice. "Iris, I'm sorry. I didn't know they would follow me here."
"Of course you didn't, darling," Helga said with a dismissive wave. "But when you develop such a sudden interest in a scholarship student, naturally, we become curious." She turned to Iris with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Especially one with such remarkable coincidences surrounding her birth."
Across the reading room, students began to notice the tension building at the central table. A few looked up from their books, sensing the undercurrent of conflict despite the hushed tones.
Iris felt the weight of all their expectations pressing down on her, the Lawsons with their desperate hope, the Kennedys with their calculating interest, and Tony with his guilt and concern. For someone who had spent her life maintaining careful control, this sudden descent into chaos was nearly unbearable.
"I think," she said, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil, "that everyone needs to take a step back. I came here to speak with the Lawsons because there are questions about my identity that deserve answers. But I won't be treated like a commodity to be claimed by whoever makes the most compelling case."
Richard Lawson nodded, a flicker of pride crossing his face at her composure. If this young woman was indeed his daughter, she had clearly inherited her mother's strength of character, along with her artistic talent.
"Miss Maxwell is right," he said, his authoritative tone brooking no argument. "This situation requires delicacy and respect."
Julius Kennedy assessed the situation with the practised eye of a businessman. The girl was impressive, poised under pressure, articulate, and clearly intelligent.