After finishing her breakfast, Aurora wiped her lips with a napkin and placed the fork down gently.
The morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the marble table.
She stood up and walked into the study, where Bishop was already going through some documents.
"Bishop," Aurora said calmly, her voice slicing through the quiet study and catching his attention instantly.
He looked up from the documents he was sorting. She walked toward him, a folded report in her hand.
"The test results I was working on... I finally got them." She handed him the papers without another word.
Bishop took the file, flipping it open casually—until his eyes widened. Shock washed over his face as he scanned the results, each line worse than the last. His hands stiffened, gripping the paper tightly.
"What the hell..." he muttered under his breath. "Who could be such a monster... to do this to a baby?"
Aurora’s eyes didn’t flinch. Her expression was cold, her voice sharper now.
"Her so-called mother, of course. The fake mother she was given."
She stepped back, arms crossed, her posture unyielding. "Bishop, I want you to investigate everything related to Aurora. Every detail. Every thread that’s ever been buried."
Bishop closed the report slowly, his expression dark.
Aurora continued, her tone unwavering. "Look into Helen Smith, too. I don’t believe her surname is truly Smith.
Bishop raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden shift in tone.
"I’ve already asked Jeremiah to dig into her background," she went on.
"But strangely enough, her entire history before the age of thirty has been wiped clean. That doesn’t happen by accident."
She turned and walked toward the window, staring out at the horizon as she spoke. Her voice lowered but was laced with command.
"Think about it—Helen arrived in the countryside in her late twenties, carrying a baby in her arms. No family, no ties.
She raised that child, but the daughter turned out to be ungrateful, selfish, and spoiled. She never once supported her mother. All she did was drain her."
"And yet... Helen provided her with everything she wanted. Expensive gadgets, trendy clothes, private tutors. How does a woman with no job, no visible income, and no network afford all that?"
Bishop stayed quiet, absorbing every word.
"There’s more," Aurora added. "From the fragments I’ve recovered from the original Aurora’s memories... there was one moment. A memory not part of her regular recollection. She remembered being taken to a hospital once during a severe fever.
But not just taken—she was driven in a luxurious car, far too extravagant for someone living in the countryside with no means."
She turned back to face Bishop now, her eyes sharp, gleaming with cold fire.
"That wasn’t a dream. That was real. There’s something fishy, and I want you to dig deeper."
She stepped closer to him, voice low but commanding. "I want every trace uncovered—bank records, past connections, anything that links Helen to Lily or anyone from that circle.
Bishop gave a firm nod. "I’ll get on it immediately."
Aurora didn’t thank him. She didn’t need to. Her gaze already drifted elsewhere, lost in thought.
Also, I’ll be attending the school placement test today."
Bishop looked up from the papers, his brow slightly furrowed. "Huh?" he scoffed lightly. "Why would someone who was once the top scholar, the genius who earned a double PhD at seventeen, take a mere high school test now?"
Aurora gave a small smile but didn’t answer immediately. She walked over to the window, looking out at the garden, her eyes distant.
"Well, I’m not Luna anymore, Bishop," she said softly.
That sentence, so simple yet so heavy, made Bishop lower his eyes. For a moment, a glint of sorrow passed through his expression.
It was brief, but real. He had known Luna—the Luna. Her sharp mind. Her dominance. Her ruthlessness.
And yet now, she stood in front of him as Aurora—gentler, calmer, but still holding that unshakable core of power.
The sadness in his eyes faded as he looked at her again, this time with a warm smile.
"Well then," he said with a faint chuckle, "maybe it’s good to relive life once in a while."
Aurora didn’t respond. She simply nodded. Their conversation ended quietly.
Outside, her sleek black Aston Martin waited. Aurora walked out with steady steps, her figure graceful, her aura commanding. She got into the car and drove herself to the school.
The leather seats hugged her frame as the engine purred to life. The city streets blurred past her window, but her mind was far ahead—already in the school’s hallway, already facing the faces of people who had once mocked her.
She arrived with an hour to spare before the exam.
After parking, she looked down at her wristwatch, her mind calculating. A decision flickered in her eyes.
Without hesitation, she turned away from the exam hall and made her way directly to the principal’s office.
Inside the school building, Principal Harris sat in his office, enjoying a warm cup of coffee.
The aroma relaxed him, and he leaned back slightly in his chair. It was one of those peaceful mornings—until a knock came on the door.
Before he could respond, Miss Raya Williams, the head teacher and Aurora’s former class teacher, entered without waiting. Her heels clicked on the floor with irritation.
"Sir," she said sharply, "there’s really no reason to waste school resources and time on someone like Aurora.
You know her academic history—it’s not even worth mentioning. She was a nobody then and probably still is."
Principal Harris looked up slowly, his calm gaze settling on her face. Miss Williams, however, didn’t stop. Her tone was bordering on disrespect.
"She’s not from any notable background," she added. "There are real students who deserve our attention. I honestly wonder if your judgment is as sound as it used to be."
That last part lingered in the air. A heavy silence followed.
Harris took a sip of his coffee before setting the cup down. Though he had been skeptical about Aurora too, something had shifted when he saw her yesterday.
There was a new light in her eyes. A confidence. A silent strength that couldn’t be faked. She wasn’t the timid, half-broken girl from years ago.
There was something else now—someone else.
"I understand your concern, Miss Williams," he began, his voice even. "But I believe every student deserves a chance, no matter their past.
Whether or not Aurora comes from a powerful background should not matter. As teachers, we are bound to treat every child equally."
He gave her a long look. "You especially, Miss Williams. Have you forgotten what it means to be an educator?"
She opened her mouth to argue but closed it just as quickly. A bead of cold sweat formed at the back of her neck.
No one else in the room knew the full story—but she did.