“She was pregnant with your child!” Mirabel screamed.
The scream was so raw it silenced the cathedral again.
Mr. David froze.
Mirabel wiped her tears violently and pointed at Nancy’s unconscious body. “This woman… this woman you tried to kill… she’s my mother.”
The room erupted in gasps.
“My mother,” Mirabel repeated, voice breaking. “I am her daughter. And you… you were about to marry your own daughter.”
Chaos exploded.
People screamed. Some cried. Phones came out, rules forgotten. The bishop stepped back, face white.
Mr. David dropped to his knees, mouth open, unable to breathe. “No… no… it’s not possible…”
He looked up at Mirabel like a man begging the universe to undo itself. “Mirabel… my daughter…”
Mirabel’s face twisted with grief and disgust. “A father protects. A father loves. You are nothing.”
Nancy stirred then, as if the truth itself pulled her back into the world. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking through tears.
Her voice—weak, trembling—breathed the name she had carried in her chest for thirty years.
“Mirabel…”
Mirabel fell to her knees again, taking Nancy’s hand like it was the most precious thing she’d ever touched. “Mommy. I’m here.”
Nancy sobbed, holding her. “I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to suffer like me.”
They clung to each other in front of the entire cathedral, the world watching a reunion that felt like a miracle and a wound at the same time.
The police arrived quickly, drawn by screams and shock. Bernard met them, face hard. “This man tried to kill a woman thirty years ago. She’s here alive.”
Mr. David tried to protest. “It was an accident—”
“It wasn’t,” Nancy said, voice shaking with power. “You pushed me. You left me to die.”
“And you tried to marry your own daughter,” Mirabel added, eyes burning. “Lock him up.”
Handcuffs clicked around Mr. David’s wrists.
