News about Cynthia's controversial interview had spread like wildfire—not just on television and radio, but across every corner of social media.
Rumors about her supposed secret child flooded timelines and comment sections, sparking endless debates. Then came an explosive article and video from a young woman claiming to be the actress's abandoned daughter.
In the interview, the woman tearfully recounted her past, saying she grew up in an orphanage after being left there as a baby. According to her, the caretakers revealed the identity of her mother—an actress who matched Cynthia's description. It was later discovered that Cynthia had long been a benefactor of that very orphanage, which only fueled the public's suspicions. Many believed that her generosity was merely a cover for guilt.
Now, the public was divided. Some pitied the alleged daughter, while others condemned Cynthia as a heartless woman who had lived in luxury while abandoning her child.
"Why are you even watching that nonsense?" Paula snapped as she entered the living room, where Cynthia sat motionless before the television, eyes fixed on the screen.
Eden, from the kitchen, quietly prepared snacks, pretending not to listen though she heard every word. Since the scandal broke, her mother had watched the same interview countless times, as if trying to understand why such a lie existed in the first place.
"This interview was made to destroy you," Paula continued, crossing her arms. "Who knows how much they paid that woman? Anyone with a brain can tell it's a setup."
"But the people believe it," Cynthia murmured, voice trembling. She turned off the TV and stared at her reflection in the black screen. "Maybe it's time we tell them the truth. I don't want to keep hiding Eden anymore. I want to walk beside her in public without fear, without pretending."
Paula blinked, taken aback. "Are you sure about this? Once you do, there's no turning back. The media won't let you breathe."
Cynthia gave a small, tired smile. "I've spent more than half my life in this industry, living for everyone else's expectations. Maybe it's time I live for my daughter. I won't let a shameless reporter define who I am." She glanced toward Eden, who was now walking over with a tray of snacks. "And besides," she added softly, "I'm done letting Nancy treat my princess like a servant."
Eden couldn't help but smile at her mother's words.
Paula sighed, finally sitting beside them. "All right. If that's your decision, I'll arrange a press conference. But think carefully, Cynthia—there's no going back once this is public."
Cynthia reached for Eden's hand. "If there's one thing I truly regret," she said, her voice breaking slightly, "it's letting her grow up in the shadows, when she deserved to live freely—like any normal young woman."
Eden squeezed her mother's hand gently, her smile warm and steady. "I told you, Ma. I'm fine—as long as I'm with you."
"You seem busy today, Sir," a Navy officer said as he approached Davin in his office at the Navy Headquarters. He carried a cup of coffee and carefully set it on the desk.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Davin replied simply, eyes scanning the files before him. These were the documents he had been compiling for the mission assigned by the two princes. In addition to the mission details, he had been researching their country, Valenor—a small European nation barely known outside its borders. Valenor was ruled by King Darius, the father of the two princes.
"By the way, Sir, regarding what you asked to be investigated… here are the results," the officer said, placing a folder on the desk.
Davin immediately picked it up and opened it. The file contained all the information he could find on Cynthia Anderson—better known now as Cindy—a famous actress. It detailed her life since returning from Paris twenty-two years ago. Yet the file contained nothing about a child, nothing suggesting she had ever had one. Even through the years, no record hinted at the existence of a daughter.
"That's strange," Davin murmured to himself.
"What is, Sir?" the officer asked.
"No, it's nothing. Thank you for this. You may return to your post."
"Yes, Sir," the officer replied, saluting before leaving. Davin returned the salute, then closed the office door behind him.
He opened his laptop and played the interview featuring the young woman claiming to be the abandoned daughter of the actress. As he watched, his gaze shifted to a photograph of the two princes' family. Then he paused on another image—the picture of a delicate necklace, said to have been given by their father to Cynthia.
"She's not wearing it," he muttered, rising from his chair. Carefully, he organized the papers on his desk, sliding them into the drawer. Slipping on his jacket, he left the office, his mind already racing with questions and suspicions.
Lt. Commander Davin Bryant arrived at the orphanage with a purpose. He needed to speak with the young woman who had given the controversial interview. At first, she refused to meet him, eyes wary and guarded. But when he mentioned that he could help her be introduced to her mother, her curiosity—and perhaps a glimmer of hope—finally overcame her hesitation.
A volunteer led him to the waiting room, where they would have their conversation. Moments later, the young woman entered the room. The air seemed to shift as she crossed the threshold, and Davin instinctively rose to greet her.
"Miss Camilla," he said, extending his hand. "I am Lt. Commander Davin Bryant. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me." His eyes, ever observant, flicked to her neck, searching for the necklace he had seen in the photographs.
Camilla hesitated for a moment, then took his hand. "And how may I assist you, Lieutenant Commander? And why have you come all the way here?" she asked, her voice guarded but curious.
"May we sit?" he asked, gesturing toward the chairs.
"Please," Camilla replied, pointing to a seat opposite him.
"Thank you," Davin said, settling into the chair. Camilla took her place across from him, her posture cautious yet defiant.
"I saw your interview," Davin began, keeping his tone neutral.
She raised an eyebrow. "Did you come here just to say that?"
"Not exactly," he replied. "What you did has made you a minor celebrity, at least in connection with the actress Cindy Anderson."
"That's not why I came forward," Camilla said firmly.
"Right," Davin said, leaning slightly forward. "You claim to be the daughter Cindy abandoned, correct?"
"Claim?" Camilla repeated, incredulous. "What I said is the truth."
"Then why come forward only now? And at the same time Cindy gives an interview to the very same reporter?" he asked carefully, his tone implying disbelief more than accusation.
"Is that the point you want to make, Commander?" Camilla replied, her eyes narrowing. She noticed the skepticism in his voice, and her own defenses tightened.
Davin nodded. "I'm merely stating my observations. There is a reason I wanted to meet you in person—to verify your claim. But I cannot explain further until I am certain of the truth."
Camilla blinked, a mixture of frustration and curiosity crossing her features. She hadn't expected such scrutiny—or the careful professionalism behind it.
Davin's eyes remained steady on hers, resolute. He wouldn't be swayed by emotion or appearances. If she truly was Cindy's daughter, he would uncover it—and ensure she was protected.
For the first time, Camilla wondered if perhaps this meeting wasn't just another intrusion into her life, but a path toward answers she had longed for.