The chandelier lights gleamed above Ophelia's head as she stepped up to the podium, her sharp navy-blue dress cinched at the waist, pearls gleaming against her collarbone like armor. The press conference room at the Regal Crown Hotel buzzed with hushed anticipation. Reporters from every major outlet filled the rows of gold-trimmed chairs, their cameras already recording.
Ophelia adjusted the mic.
"Thank you all for coming," she said, her voice steady, controlled. "Today, I am here to confirm what has been long speculated, and what has finally been proven through legal documentation and certified DNA analysis."
She turned slightly to gesture to the poised young woman seated at her left. Brooke, dressed in a pale cream dress with her hair softly curled. Her expression was calm, almost docile, but her eyes sparkled with triumph.
