Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life novel Chapter 1969

If they cared so much about the fake Amy, then Amy was determined not to give them what they wanted.

She was their real daughter. Yet not only did they resent her, they treated her like she was less than nothing.

Why should she have to put up with that?

They’d always known she was trapped in the basement, controlled by the fake Amy. Not once did they bother to check on her—not even a glance of concern. Even now, they were putting on a show: one acting angry, the other pretending to be upset, as if they were the ones who’d been wronged.

Amy picked up her pace, hurrying after Fiona. If she had to pick a side, she definitely wasn’t about to risk everything like her parents had. That was not happening.

Besides, Fiona’s family, the Stonnells, were way more powerful than the Gregorys could ever handle.

And, honestly, Fiona couldn’t stand the fake Amy either.

“Ms. Fiona! Wait up!” Amy called.

She finally caught up, breathless, stopping just an arm’s length from Fiona. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, and a flush of red crept into her cheeks.

“What is it? Abby, do you need something?” Fiona asked, looking almost amused as she peeled a pomegranate. She popped a seed into her mouth, clearly enjoying the sweet, juicy burst.

“Ms. Fiona, I only managed to get out because you helped me. So I think you deserve to know where the fake Amy is.”

Amy lifted her chin. Years of being locked away had left her pale and much shorter than Fiona. Standing next to her, Amy looked like the timid little sister, her face almost identical to the fake Amy’s, but her body was so much smaller, her presence so much quieter.

“Oh? I’m listening,” Fiona said, leaning back against her car, still peeling the pomegranate.

She remembered, not long ago, she’d nearly escaped—only to get caught and dragged right back after climbing into a taxi. She’d been so close. Just a little further, and she’d have made it out.

Now, even sitting in a car made her skin crawl. The fear was just that deep.

“Have some pomegranate,” Fiona said, nudging a bag of fruit toward her. “It helps with the nerves.”

Amy didn’t move at first. Fiona added, “Seriously, eating something helps you relax.”

Finally, Amy reached out with trembling hands and picked up a pomegranate, copying Fiona as she tucked the peel into her pocket.

Fiona noticed how tense Amy was, but didn’t push her. As Amy started peeling and eating, she actually seemed to calm down a bit—still nervous, but not nearly as wound up as before.