Chapter 188

Eleanor's POV

My mother stands by the window, her silhouette sharp against the muted light, while Lucas remains near the door, unusually quiet.

"Mom," I begin, trying to keep my voice light and cheerful despite the lingering pain in my side. "I'm really fine now. Just can't move around much. Please don't be angry - I'll be more careful next time."

The silence that follows feels heavy, oppressive. She doesn't turn from the window, her posture rigid in her perfectly tailored suit. My fingers unconsciously twist the thin hospital blanket, a nervous habit I've never quite outgrown.

"Mom?" I try again, uncertainty creeping into my voice. "I know you were worried, but-"

"Stop calling me that." Her voice cuts through the room like ice. She finally turns, and I barely recognize the woman before me. Her face, usually so carefully composed, holds nothing but cold disdain. "You're not my daughter."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I glance at Lucas, seeking reassurance, explanation, anything - but my brother's face is a mask of carefully controlled pain.

"What?" I force a laugh, though it sounds hollow even to my own ears. "Mom, what's wrong? If this is about the accident-"

"I said stop calling me that!" She reaches into her designer bag, pulling out an envelope. The paper makes a harsh sound as she unfolds it, the crisp edges somehow threatening in their precision. "This is a DNA test. Read it."

My hands shake as I take the paper. The medical terminology swims before my eyes, but certain phrases stand out with brutal clarity: "No maternal genetic match... exclusion of maternity... 99.99% probability..."

"I don't understand," I whisper, though a terrible understanding is beginning to dawn. "This can't be..."

"You're Grant Yates's daughter," Clara states, each word precise and cutting, "but not mine. My real daughter is Maeve Coleman - your stunt double."

I stared at her in disbelief as her words cut through me like shards of glass. "When I found out the truth, I was as devastated as you are now. Devastated that the daughter I loved so much wasn't my flesh and blood, but my husband's bastard child! And I raised this bastard for twenty-five years while my real daughter suffered out there!"

Memories flash through my mind - the way Maeve sometimes looked at me during filming, the subtle similarities in our features.

I never imagined she would one day point at me and describe me with such cruel words. How could she reduce my entire existence to such a vile term? That mother who loved me so completely - how could she become this cold, hateful stranger before me?

My head spins as I violently shake it, desperate to wake up from what must be some twisted nightmare. This can't be real. None of this makes any sense. The tears start flowing before I can stop them, hot streams down my cheeks as my whole body trembles.

"No," I scream, my voice cracking with hysteria. "No, that's impossible. All these years... you loved me. You-"

"The love I once had for you has turned to hate." Her voice is devoid of emotion now. "Every time I looked at you - I was nurturing mistress's child while my own daughter lived in obscurity."

"Mom, please..." Each syllable comes out higher and more frantic than the last, like something wild and desperate clawing its way out of my chest. "I'm not... I can't be..."

"Eleanor." Her words dripped with venom. "As much as I once loved you, that's how much I hate you now." She spoke through gritted teeth. "I came here today to make one thing clear - from this moment on, the Harrington house is no longer your home. Get out of my sight immediately. I never want to see you again! I will terminate your entire entertainment career. I will freeze all your assets. And don't bother running to your so-called friends for help - anyone who shows you kindness now is making an enemy of me, Clara Harrington!"

"Everything you have came from the Harrington family, and now I'm taking it all back with interest! You have no right to any of it!"

I turn desperately to Lucas, who hasn't moved from his position by the door. "Brother..."

"I'm sorry, Eleanor," he says softly. "The lawyers are already preparing the papers. All assets will be frozen pending..."

The transition feels surreal - just hours ago, I was Eleanor Harrington. Now... now I'm nothing but an imposter. For over two decades, I've lived a lie as part of Manhattan's most powerful families. Now faced with undeniable proof, I can barely look at myself in the mirror. I feel like nothing but a thief.

"Mom," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the medical equipment. She pauses in her move. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't turn around. Her shoulders stiffen. "Disappearing from my sight forever - that's the only way you can repay the years I wasted on you." She hurried out of the room, unable to bear staying there another second.

The words hit harder than any physical blow could. This woman who raised me, who taught me how to hold my head high in society, who once kissed my scraped knees and celebrated my victories, now she won't even look at me.

"Brother..." I turn to Lucas, desperation clawing at my throat. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken words. "I guess... I can't call you that anymore?"

His jaw tightens, but he doesn't respond.

"Please," I force myself to focus, to remember my responsibilities even as my world crumbles. "Please tell Serena I can't help with the lawsuit anymore."

"I've already informed her." His voice is controlled, professional - the voice he uses with business associates, not family. Not that I'm family anymore.

The door closes behind them with a final, devastating click. The sound echoes in the suddenly vast emptiness of the hospital room, marking the moment when Eleanor Harrington ceases to exist.