---
The car rolled smoothly into the driveway of the Quest mansion, the twilight sky casting a golden hue over the rooftop. Blair stepped out first, James right behind her, both of them quietly laughing about something only they understood.
From the kitchen window, they spotted Caleb leaning against the counter, watching Maddie cook. He was saying something that made her laugh softly, her cheeks pink as she stirred the pot.
Blair immediately placed a finger over her lips and turned to James. "Shhh. Don't ruin the moment," she whispered, tiptoeing with exaggerated stealth past the kitchen entrance.
James followed with a grin, hands up in surrender.
They reached the top of the stairs, only to find Cassie standing in the hallway, arms crossed, her eyes unreadable. Blair hesitated, then slipped into her room without a word. Cassie didn't look at her. Her eyes were locked on James.
"We need to talk," she said, voice sharp.
James sighed, his shoulders already tense. Cassie didn't wait for him to answer—she was already heading down the stairs. With a deep breath, James followed her.
From the kitchen, Maddie peeked up and nudged Caleb. "They're back."
"Yeah?" Caleb asked, glancing toward the hallway. "You think everything's okay?"
"I'm going to check on Blair," she said quickly, turning the stove off and heading upstairs, apron still tied around her waist.
Outside, in the cool night air of the driveway, Cassie stood with her arms folded, back straight but her voice trembling just a little.
"I've been chasing you for so long, James," she started, her eyes glistening. "And then Blair comes here—not even three months—and suddenly you're looking at her like she's the only girl on Earth. Giving her your attention. Treating her like… like you never even treated me."
James ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Cassie, that's because… I don't like you. Not like that. You're Caleb's little sister. You've never really liked me, not me. You liked the version of me you built in your head."
Cassie looked away, blinking rapidly.
"You were my first kiss," she said quietly, trying to hold her ground. "In high school. You loved me."
"I did," James admitted. "But you said you weren't interested. And I moved on. Honestly, Cassie, if we had ever dated, we would've crashed and burned. We're opposites… but not the kind that works."
Her lip quivered, but she held back tears. James stepped closer, gently.
"I'm sorry, okay? I really am. But I've never given you false hope, Cass. I've never led you on. If Blair hadn't moved here, I'd still be saying this. It's not about her replacing you—it's just that you and I were never going to happen."
Cassie finally broke down. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time.
James hesitated before stepping forward and pulling her into a hug. She cried into his shoulder, small, muffled sobs.
When she pulled away, he cupped her cheek gently.
"You're beautiful, Cass. And one day, someone will line up for you. The right one. But it's not me. And that's okay. Just… don't take it out on Blair. Don't hate her for something that was never ours to begin with."
Cassie nodded, still crying.
"Good night, Cass."
"Good night, James."
And with that, he walked back toward the house, the weight of honesty still lingering in the cold air between them.
---
Back upstairs, the soft knock on Blair's door was followed almost immediately by Maddie slipping in.
Blair stood by the vanity in a white robe, towel-wrapped hair now pulled into a messy bun, her skin still dewy from the shower. She was humming under her breath, cheeks glowing.
Maddie leaned against the doorway, smirking. "Well, well, if it isn't the glowing goddess herself. Fresh out of a James-infused day."
Blair grinned without turning. "I saw you and Caleb downstairs. Cooking together like some Pinterest couple."
"Shut up," Maddie tossed back, blushing. "Don't change the subject. Spill—how was today? Tell me everything."
Blair giggled, then flopped dramatically onto the bed. "It was… really nice. We talked about everything—our pasts, funny stuff, serious stuff. We even made eye contact. Like… deep eye contact."
Maddie narrowed her eyes, then leaned forward. "Hold up. Full stop. Pause."
Blair blinked, confused. "What?"
"You mean to tell me James didn't kiss you? Or try to… you know, do anything?"
Blair's brows furrowed. "No? Was he supposed to?"
Maddie stood frozen for a beat, then squealed like she couldn't contain it. "Oh. My. God. James really loves you."
Blair's eyes widened. "What? Why would you say that?"
Maddie flopped beside her, still squealing. "Because that boy has had girls throwing themselves at him since puberty hit him like a truck, and yet he spends the day alone with you, in his bedroom, and doesn't even try anything. That's not just respect—that's love."
Blair beamed, a shy smile stretching across her face. "I'm so happy. I just… I hope Cassie doesn't hate me. I feel guilty sometimes."
Maddie squeezed her hand. "You're not doing anything wrong. Cassie's feelings are her own to sort out. You owe no one an apology for falling for someone who treats you right."
Blair nodded softly, her expression clearing. "I told James we should go to this art exhibit on Saturday. I've been dying to see it ever since Canada. I can't wait."
Maddie stood, stretching. "Okay, lovebird. Get dressed and come down for dinner. Also… remember."
Blair groaned playfully. "Operation Sarah?"
"Operation Sarah," Maddie repeated with a mischievous grin. "We strike at dinner."
Blair laughed, already reaching for her clothes. "Got it, General."
---
Everyone was seated at the dinner table—Victor at the head, Lily beside him, Caleb and Maddie whispering and stealing glances, Cassie scrolling on her phone with a fork in her other hand, Andrew cracking jokes that had Victor nearly choking on his wine, and Sarah sitting like she belonged on the cover of Vogue, her posture perfectly posed.
Then came Blair, the last to descend the stairs, hair up in a messy bun, wearing a baggy navy shirt that could've easily been James's and soft white shorts. Her face was flushed like she'd just sprinted a marathon—and in her own way, she had. She slid into the seat between Maddie and Andrew, muttering a soft "Sorry."
Andrew gave her a teasing grin. "What, were you wrestling a ghost in the bathroom?"
Maddie shot Blair a look. Blair gave her the smallest nod—it's time.
Blair stood suddenly, bumping her knee against the table and drawing everyone's attention. "Um—I… I forgot something. I need to… yeah—I'll be back."
Jazmine raised a brow. "Where are you going with that dramatic energy?"
"I left… something. Upstairs. Super important. Be back in a sec!" Blair said, backing away and practically jogging out of the dining room.
As her footsteps faded up the stairs, Andrew leaned into his wine glass. "I'm starting to think Blair might be a little crazy sometimes."
Cassie didn't miss a beat. "At times?"
Meanwhile, Blair crept through the upstairs hallway like a character out of Mission Impossible, heart pounding. She slipped into Sarah's room, gently closing the door behind her. Her eyes scanned the space—everything was too clean, too polished. Like Sarah had something to hide.
She started at the vanity. Sarah's phone sat there. Locked. But her lock screen was what caught Blair's breath—a selfie of Sarah with a small boy around five or six. Blair's heart thudded. Sarah has a kid? She snapped a photo of the lock screen with her own phone.
Blair moved to the desk. She found a planner tucked underneath a pile of travel magazines. As she flipped through, her fingers froze on a scribbled note:
"Talk to Caleb about Lucian—ease it in. Make it believable."
Lucian? Blair's brows knit together.
Her pulse racing, she opened the drawer—and there it was. Folded documents. She saw the name Lucian Jones on a birth certificate.
Mother: Sarah Jones
Father: Unknown.
But right beneath that were edited copies. Newer ones—listing Caleb Quest as the father.
Blair's mouth dropped open.
"Oh my God…"
And then she saw more—old divorce papers. Sarah Jones and Don Hamilton.
That was it. Sarah wasn't just trying to come clean—she was rewriting history. She was planning to pass this child off as Caleb's. A child who clearly wasn't his.
"She's insane…" Blair whispered.
Just then, her phone buzzed. Maddie.
"SARAH IS COMING UP. GET OUT."
Shit. Blair shoved the documents back, closed everything, looked at the door—and heard footsteps.
No way she could sneak out. No time.
Without thinking, she rushed to the window, pushed it open, and jumped.
The air hit her face in a slap of cold as she fell, crashing into the bushes below with a grunt. Mud splashed up her thighs, her robe flying open halfway, and a sharp pain screamed through her knee.
"Shit… ow, ow, ow…" she hissed, wincing as she sat up, dirt smeared across her cheek, a fresh cut bleeding on her leg.
But she had what she needed. She had proof.