They Chose the Impostor Over Me - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
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My father's voice was icy as he repeated the question that had been hanging in the air.
Renata frantically shook her head, fingers clawing at her hair in desperation. "No! I'm not lying! She destroyed me, and now you're taking her side?"
My mother let out a weary sigh. "That's not what this is about. It's just... the timing doesn't add up. If you were worried about your reputation, you could have told us privately after the party."
"But you let me say it in front of everyone! That makes no sense!"
"The police already have the suspects in custody," my father cut in. "If you're hiding something, you'd better come clean now—before they do it for you."
Even now, my mother was still trying to give Renata an out.
A bitter smile twisted Renata's lips. "Fine. If you won't believe me, I'll prove it."
Before anyone could react, she lunged for the window and threw herself out.
"Stop!"
"Renata!"
Panic erupted. My parents shouted for help as people rushed to the riverbank below. But the night was pitch black, the current unpredictable—no one could spot her in the swirling darkness.
When Reagan finally dragged himself out of the water, gasping, he heard the news: Renata had jumped too. He turned, ready to dive back in—
Then the door of the neighboring private room burst open.
Police officers marched out with a suspect in cuffs.
"Mr. and Mrs. Müller," one announced, "we have confessions. The attacks were orchestrated by your youngest daughter—Renata Müller."
My parents and brother froze. The officer hesitated before adding, "We also uncovered... disturbing details about what happened to Renesmee at the training center last year."
"What?" My father stiffened. "Those coaches were handpicked professionals. They wouldn't—"
The officer's expression darkened as he shoved the suspect forward. "Tell them."
The man kept his eyes down as he confessed. "Renata paid each of us $140,000. She got us hired as replacements for the real coaches you chose for Renesmee."
My brother's breath hitched.
"She had the staff move Renesmee into solitary confinement," the man mumbled. "Told us to... 'train' her however we wanted, as long as we didn't leave marks."
"What. Did. You. Do. To. Her." Reagan's voice was a barely restrained snarl.
The suspect flinched, clamping his mouth shut. He knew—one more word, and Reagan would rip him apart.
My father turned to the police, voice strained. "Please. Find the others before they disappear."
The officers nodded, hauling the man away.
My family spent the night scouring the riverbanks. Nothing.
At dawn, a call came: Renata had been found.
At the station, the truth unraveled. Her "suicidal leap" had been a ruse—she'd used the chaos to slip away, knowing the arrested thug's testimony would bury her.
In the dead of night, she'd doubled back to the villa, grabbed her passport and cash, and bolted for the airport.
Too bad for her—they caught her at the gate.
Renata frantically shook her head, fingers clawing at her hair in desperation. "No! I'm not lying! She destroyed me, and now you're taking her side?"
My mother let out a weary sigh. "That's not what this is about. It's just... the timing doesn't add up. If you were worried about your reputation, you could have told us privately after the party."
"But you let me say it in front of everyone! That makes no sense!"
"The police already have the suspects in custody," my father cut in. "If you're hiding something, you'd better come clean now—before they do it for you."
Even now, my mother was still trying to give Renata an out.
A bitter smile twisted Renata's lips. "Fine. If you won't believe me, I'll prove it."
Before anyone could react, she lunged for the window and threw herself out.
"Stop!"
"Renata!"
Panic erupted. My parents shouted for help as people rushed to the riverbank below. But the night was pitch black, the current unpredictable—no one could spot her in the swirling darkness.
When Reagan finally dragged himself out of the water, gasping, he heard the news: Renata had jumped too. He turned, ready to dive back in—
Then the door of the neighboring private room burst open.
Police officers marched out with a suspect in cuffs.
"Mr. and Mrs. Müller," one announced, "we have confessions. The attacks were orchestrated by your youngest daughter—Renata Müller."
My parents and brother froze. The officer hesitated before adding, "We also uncovered... disturbing details about what happened to Renesmee at the training center last year."
"What?" My father stiffened. "Those coaches were handpicked professionals. They wouldn't—"
The officer's expression darkened as he shoved the suspect forward. "Tell them."
The man kept his eyes down as he confessed. "Renata paid each of us $140,000. She got us hired as replacements for the real coaches you chose for Renesmee."
My brother's breath hitched.
"She had the staff move Renesmee into solitary confinement," the man mumbled. "Told us to... 'train' her however we wanted, as long as we didn't leave marks."
"What. Did. You. Do. To. Her." Reagan's voice was a barely restrained snarl.
The suspect flinched, clamping his mouth shut. He knew—one more word, and Reagan would rip him apart.
My father turned to the police, voice strained. "Please. Find the others before they disappear."
The officers nodded, hauling the man away.
My family spent the night scouring the riverbanks. Nothing.
At dawn, a call came: Renata had been found.
At the station, the truth unraveled. Her "suicidal leap" had been a ruse—she'd used the chaos to slip away, knowing the arrested thug's testimony would bury her.
In the dead of night, she'd doubled back to the villa, grabbed her passport and cash, and bolted for the airport.
Too bad for her—they caught her at the gate.
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