A cool night breeze drifted through the parking lot as Amelia and Robert walked side by side.
Robert glanced over. “That woman—she looks a lot like you. That can’t just be a coincidence, right?”
Amelia gave a wry smile, letting the wind brush her hair back. “It’s a bit too soap-opera for my taste. Let’s not talk about it. Did you drive here, or—?”
Before she could finish, a voice called out, “Mrs. Campbell.”
Hardly anyone used that name for her outside of formal events. Amelia turned and recognized the actress from Pearl’s birthday party a few weeks ago—Sarah, was it?
They hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms that day. Amelia was surprised Sarah would go out of her way to say hello.
Sarah’s eyes flicked to Robert, then settled on Amelia. She leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I saw everything just now. That drama queen who pretended to fall—she’s your rival, isn’t she?”
Amelia gave her a flat look. “What are you getting at?”
Sarah couldn’t hide her gossipy excitement. “I know you two look alike, but I’m Team You, hands down. You’re way prettier—totally natural. You’ve got that classic beauty, not like her with all that work done. She can’t hold a candle to you.”
Amelia was baffled. Violet had never had any cosmetic surgery—her features hadn’t changed in the past three years. Even before that, it wouldn’t make sense. If Violet had altered her face, what did that make Amelia, who’d been chosen for her resemblance?
“She hasn’t had any work done. You’re mistaken.”
“I’d bet on it.” Sarah tapped her chest, brimming with confidence. “I know the business inside and out. My eyes don’t lie—she’s definitely had work done.”
Amelia doubted it, but arguing seemed pointless. This wasn’t a hill worth dying on.
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