When she finally reached the Harrison mansion, what shocked her wasn’t the beauty—
It was the party.
Flowers.
Luxury cars.
Music.
A sign read:
WELCOME, LIAM HARRISON
Blue and gold balloons.
A celebration.
While the real baby had nearly frozen in a box.
Anger burned away Dana’s fear.
She climbed the wall, slipped through hedges, and reached a massive window.
Inside stood Thomas Harrison and his elegant wife Elizabeth, holding a spotless baby dressed in white.
Dana’s world cracked.
Then she saw her.
A maid approaching with a tray.
Black uniform. White apron.
Dana recognized her instantly.
The woman from the landfill.
OLIVIA.
Dana stepped inside.
The room fell silent.
Not just because of her muddy boots and dirty clothes—
But because the child standing there was clearly no older than eight or nine years old.
Dana walked to the center and screamed, her voice tearing through luxury:
“HOW COULD YOU CELEBRATE AFTER THROWING A BABY IN THE TRASH?!”
Chaos exploded.
Olivia screamed for security, calling Dana crazy.
Guards grabbed her—
a small child shaking with rage and fear, still protecting the baby in her arms.
In desperation, Dana reached into her pocket and threw the chain.
It landed at Elizabeth’s feet.
HARRISON.