An hour later, the sun beat down on the private office of Richard Vance, one of the top probate lawyers in downtown Dallas.
Clara sat on the leather sofa, still wearing her lace wedding dress, while Maya sat beside her wrapped in a warm blanket, holding a mug of tea.
Lawyer Vance: Clara, I have to admit, when your wedding coordinator called me from the mansion, I thought it was a joke.
Clara: It's no joke, Mr. Vance. I need you to pull up my father's original trust documents right now.
Lawyer Vance: I've actually had those documents pulled since you turned twenty-one, Clara. But your stepmother, Evelyn, kept filing extension motions.
Maya: She told me my father left no money for me at all... she said I was lucky she gave me a job as a maid.
Lawyer Vance: That is completely false, Maya. I remember your father's final signing session twelve years ago vividly.
Clara: Tell us the truth, Mr. Vance. What did my father leave for us?
Lawyer Vance: Your father, Arthur Sterling, divided his sixty-million-dollar estate equally between his two biological daughters, Clara and Maya.
Maya gasped, nearly spilling her hot tea onto her lap as her eyes widened in shock.
Maya: Thirty million dollars?! For me?!
Lawyer Vance: Yes, Maya. Thirty million in cash, real estate stock, and primary ownership of the Dallas estate mansion.
Clara: Then how was Evelyn able to hide Maya and take over the estate administration?
Lawyer Vance: Evelyn presented a death certificate for Maya Sterling to the probate court eleven years ago, claiming you died of pneumonia in foster care.
Clara: She forged a death certificate for a living child?!
Lawyer Vance: That is a massive federal crime, Clara. If Maya is standing right here alive, Evelyn committed grand larceny, identity fraud, and document forgery.
Maya: She paid off the foster agency director to hide my records... I remember a man telling me my family didn't want me anymore.
Clara: That monster... she isolated Maya, lied to me, and tried to marry me off to her greedy nephew so they could lock up the remaining trust money!
Lawyer Vance: Exactly. The moment you married her nephew, his family would have gained voting rights on the corporate board.
Clara: Mr. Vance, what do we need to do to strip Evelyn of her power immediately?
Lawyer Vance: I can file an emergency petition with the Dallas County Probate Court right now to freeze every bank account attached to the estate.
Maya: Can she go to prison for what she did to me?
Lawyer Vance: For forging a death certificate and stealing millions from a minor? She's looking at fifteen to twenty years in a state penitentiary.
Clara: File the papers, Mr. Vance. Do it immediately.
Lawyer Vance: I will need Maya to provide a formal deposition and a DNA test to present to the judge to verify her identity beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Maya: I'll do whatever it takes. I want my life back.
Clara: You have your life back, Maya. And nobody is ever going to make you scrub another floor again.
The office door suddenly rattled as heavy footsteps approached from the hallway outside.
The mahogany door flew open, and Evelyn marched into the room, flanked by two corporate security guards.
Evelyn: I knew you'd come straight here, Clara! You are making a terrible mistake!
Lawyer Vance: Mrs. Sterling, you are trespassing in my private office. Leave at once or I will call security.
Evelyn: Shut up, Vance! This is a family matter!
Clara: You aren't family, Evelyn. You're a thief who belongs behind bars.
Evelyn: I raised you in luxury, Clara! I gave you designer clothes, private schools, and a grand mansion to live in!
Clara: You gave me luxury paid for by money you stole from my sister while you made her eat leftovers in your kitchen!
Evelyn: She was a mistake! Your father never should have had a child with that common woman!
Maya: My mother loved my father! You were the one who married him for his money when he was sick!
Evelyn: You insolent little servant! You think anyone is going to believe a maid over me?!
Lawyer Vance: They will believe the certified DNA test and the forged death certificate we just pulled from state archives, Evelyn.
Evelyn's face drained of color, her haughty posture crumbling as she took a step backward toward her security guards.
Evelyn: What... what forged certificate?
Lawyer Vance: The one you filed in 2015, Evelyn. The state prosecutor is already reviewing the file as we speak.
Evelyn: Clara... darling... please, let's talk about this privately at home!
Clara: The only place you're going home to is a jail cell, Evelyn.