The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

“Rosa,” Logan began, turning to her. “You can’t be too pleased with how the media has been portraying your friend.”

“Not all of it is lies,” Rosa said, frowning deeply. “Angela had a past, but she also worked hard to overcome it. They don’t mention that on the news, even though they should.”

I could see what Logan was digging for, so I helped, probing gently. “If we talked more… If you shared with. me the truth about my mother. Do you think you could help us clear her name?”

Rosa looked at me with sudden renewed conviction. “Hazel, it would be my great pleasure to help clear your mother’s good name. Do you really think I could help?”

“I do,” I say. “It’s easy for them to paint her as a villain with her past. If we can find a way to show everyone that she was moving forward, I want them to know that she became something so much greater.”

“I’d like that,” Rosa said. “But how could it be possible? already called the local news station. They wouldn’t listen to me.”

Logan and I share a glance.

“We have connections,” Logan said.

Rosa seemed uncertain with that response.

Knowing trust beget trust, I told her honestly. “We are in touch with people who are running a website set on revealing the truth. They’ve already gone viral once

Rosa looked at me curiously. “And that is helping things?”

“Yes,” I told her.

“Okay,” she replied. “Then, yes. Whatever you think would help honor her memory. I was going to tell you everything anyway, Hazel. The information is yours to do with as you will.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But don’t diminish your help in this. You could have kept walking, but you didn’t. You recognized me and want to honor my mother. That means so much.”

Rosa’s frown slowly ebbed, returning to a soft smile once more. “I live nearby. Why don’t we discuss your mother over some coffee? I’ll show you my albums.”

“I’d like that.”

Rosa turned and started walking, Logan and I followed along behind her. She veered out of the cemetery, then turned down a residential street. Her house was the third one down, a simply white house with a big

porch.

Logan and I took seats on the chairs out front while she disappeared into the house. She returned ten minutes later with fresh coffee and a couple of albums

When we were all caffeinated and settled, she sat on the seat next to mine and opened an album on her lap.

TA

For the next two hours, I traveled down memory lane, witnessing through snapshots the life of a woman | was so intrinsically tied to, but who I had never met. Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

Rosa told stories. She pulled out pictures for me to take.

Logan recorded our entire conversation on his phone, to be used on the website.

When it was time to say goodbye, Rosa and I embraced.

“You are so much like her,” Rosa said. “You have all of her best qualities.

My heart doubled in size, bursting in pride and lover.

I held Rosa tighter. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Logan exchanged contact information with Rosa so we could stay in touch, then Logan and I left. Rosa waved at us from her porch as we continued on down the street.

Before we even turned the corner, Logan was already on his phone, calling Mike. “Expect a big audio file. We’ll also be sending over some pictures later. We’ve gotten the truth about Angela Clives from a reliable source.”

His next call, made in the car, was to Mabel Fritz, our PR representative. With her on speakerphone, Logan and I told her briefly what we discovered and our plans to have the information posted on the website.

“I like it,” Mabel said when we’d finished. “I’m not sure it will mean much to those who have already made

in the up their minds to hate her, but as we start to reveal more truths about you, Hazel, it will benefit you long run to have information already out there clearing your mother.”

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I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that.

Mabel continued, “Once people start to change their minds about you, Hazel, they will dig more into your past. They will find the info you posted about your mother. From there, they will side with you even more. This is a slow process, don’t forget. Have patience.”

“Okay,” I said. “I guess we don’t have any other choice.

“You can’t force people to change their opinions,” Mabel said. “You have to play the long game.”

“I’ll try to be patient,” I said, though it was difficult.

“We both will,” Logan said, smiling at me.

“Good,” Mabel said. “That will help. We’re all in this together.” Before we could respond, she immediately barreled forward into another topic. “I have something planned. A photo op for the two of you with photos we can release at our discretion. The minute you get back in town, let me know.”

“What kind of photo op?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

Logan and I enjoyed each other’s company on the long drive back to our home city. There was still a measure of loss within me, having lost the initial ring Logan had given me. But this new one was beautiful and heartfelt. I couldn’t stop looking at it.

Still, I felt as if I should apologize for the loss of Logan’s family heirloom. “I’m sorry about the ring.”

H

“It’s fine,” Logan said. “So long as I keep my wife.”

His wife. I liked the sound of that. When we were a safe distance from the other cars, I leaned in and

kissed him on the cheek.

When we arrived in town, we sent Mabel a message. Immediately, she replied with an address. The address led us to a photographer’s studio.

Mabel was already out front, waiting. When she saw us, she stopped pacing.

I hopped out of the car and approached her. Logan came around the car to join us.

“There you are,” she said.

“Now will you tell us what this photo op is all about?” I asked.

She glanced at me, then down to the ring finger of my left hand. Self–consciously, I lifted my hand wearing. my new heirloom ring.

She hummed. “It’s not terribly flashy, is it?”

“It has sentimental value,” I said at once, defending my perfect ring.

“That’s good. Better than good. A smaller ring helps prove you aren’t after Logan for his money,” Mabel said. “Come inside. Let’s get some happy married couple photos.”

“Happy

married couple….?” Logan repeated, uncertainty slowing his voice.

Mabel lifted a brow at him, “All you have to do is look at your wife like you are in love with her. Think you can handle that?”

Logan shifted his gaze to me. He stared deep into my eyes, and I could feel as well as see when the tension lifted from within him. His expression evened out before he eventually smiled.

He seemed contented, at peace, and triggered the same response inside of me.

“Yeah,” he said, voice soft and gentle. “I think I can handle that.”