Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
“Yeah, of course!” Quinton immediately pulled a box of ginseng from the medicine cabinet.
Even before he opened the package, Yunice recognized it. “Wait, isn’t this one of the gifts you sent to the Saunders family?”
She remembered it clearly-among the ten gifts he had sent, the jade bracelet and the hundred-year-old ginseng had been the most valuable.
Quinton opened the wooden box. “Exactly. I couldn’t re-gift something like that after it had already been given. It felt like such a waste to just leave it sitting there, so I started brewing it for Arthur.”
Yunice got a bad feeling. Once the box was open, sure enough, there was a huge ginseng root.
Quinton said, “See? How could a six-year-old ginseng grow this big?”
The root was indeed massive, and every single tendril was secured with gold wire-perfectly arranged and visually impressive. The whole ginseng looked seamless, nothing like a small, immature six-year-old one.
Yunice reached out, snipped a tendril, and chewed it before spitting it out. Then she broke off another from the opposite side and tasted it again.
Quinton had no idea what she was doing, but Yunice declared with certainty, “This is a high-quality counterfeit-a spliced root.” Because it was pieced together, different sections of the root had wildly inconsistent medicinal properties. And since all the parts used were under six years old, the overall effect was heating in nature.
Quinton refused to believe it. “I got this through a reliable source, all tested. No way it’s fake. I’ve been in this business for years-my reputation counts for something.”
If a business partner handed him counterfeit medicine, that partner wouldn’t last long in the industry.
“It might not have been fake from the supplier,” Yunice said.
Quinton caught something in her tone. Sure enough, Yunice continued, “It’s possible someone swapped it out after testing.”
“I only handed it to the Saunders family; no one else touched it after that,” Quinton said.
That statement left little room for doubt. Yunice said nothing.
Quinton’s expression darkened. His voice grew cold. “They really dared to pull something like this. Looks like Chwen doesn’t take me seriously at all.” He looked like he was about to go confront Owen.
“Owen’s your brother, sure, but after everything he’s done to you…”
“This isn’t defending him; I just know the kind of person he is. He’s arrogant and pretentious, even if he wanted something, he wouldn’t stoop to stealing it.”
“And you suggest we have proof the ginseng was swapped. If you go straight to Owen, the real culprit will just sit back and enjoy the show.”
Yunice knew that family all too well. It wouldn’t take much to figure out who was behind this. She had better ways to make Elsie suffer.
Quinton waved her off. “It’s not that big a deal…”
Yunice’s expression turned cold. “This isn’t about a single root of ginseng. It’s time I fought back.”
She was going to make sure Elsie learned the hard way that taking what didn’t belong to you came with consequences.
Meanwhile, at the Saunders mansion, Giana stood outside Elsie’s room, holding a delicate box. A delivery had just come from Wyatt’s people. She knocked on the door. “Ms. Saunders…”
Grinning with smug satisfaction, Giana looked like a cat who’d stolen cream. Elsie sat at her vanity, trying on different pieces of jewelry, and replied offhandedly, “Put it there-I’ll take a look.”
It was her usual routine. Anytime a letter or gift arrived at the house, Giana would always bring it to her first for inspection.
, So It’s Mine
“Ms. Elsie, it’s a gown,” Giama pulled the dress out and admired it with wide-eyed wonder.
Elsie’s hand, mid-motion as she fastened her earring, froze. She stared blankly at the dress spread out before her. The fabric and cut were absolutely stunning; wearing it would undoubtedly turn heads and steal the spotlight. She reached out to gently touch the material-so soft and smooth-and her face unconsciously revealed a mix of awe and envy. “Wyatt really went all out for Yunice. Doesn’t he realize that backwoods girl doesn’t deserve it?”
Giana, practically buzzing with excitement, suggested, “Ms. Elsie, I think this dress would look perfect on you. She doesn’t even live here anymore; who’s going to know Wyatt sent it?”
Elsie, who had been thinking the same thing, sneered, “Her name might be Yunice, but my ID says Yunice too. It has my name on it, so obviously, it was meant for me.”
Giana quickly chimed in, “Exactly, exactly!” As she unfolded the gown and was just about to help Elsie try it on, a card slipped out from between the folds. “Ms. Elsie, there’s a note inside…”
Elsie took it, scanning the contents. It was a message from Wyatt, outlining his arrangements. “Jackson’s birthday is tomorrow?” Her brow furrowed. Such an important occasion, and Paul hadn’t mentioned it at all. Even someone as insignificant as Yunice had received a gown for the event, and yet she had gotten nothing. Did Paul never intend to bring her to Jackson’s birthday celebration?
“All that talk about marrying me… Looks like it was just empty promises to string me along,” Elsie crumpled the letter and tossed it into the trash in frustration. The thought of Taylor arm-in-arm with Paul, smiling as the social elite showered her with compliments, made jealousy churn like a storm inside her. “I’m Paul’s woman. I’m the one who should be at an event like this,” she snapped.
Giana, while also feeling it was unfair, couldn’t help but remind her, “But Ms. Elsie, the Powell family already said you weren’t welcome anymore.”
“There are so many guests… What reason could they possibly use to throw me out in front of everyone?” She discarded the dress. “I’m going!” Then she ordered Giana to take the gown to her personal tailor to have it altered.
The next day, at the Powell mansion, the parking lot overflowed with luxury cars. Titans of finance-people who only ever showed up in stock reports-were suddenly as common as vegetables at a farmer’s market.
Elsie walked toward the Powell family’s attendant, exuding confidence in the dress Wyatt had prepared. She handed over her invitation. After scanning it, the attendant gave her a once-over, then stepped aside. “Please go in.”
She accepted the invitation back with a smile. Thank God for Wyatt. If he hadn’t set her up with everything she needed, she never would have gotten in so easily.
Once inside, she followed tradition and had the staff write her name down on the guest list before proceeding to the main hall, exactly as she requested.
In the grand hall, she scanned the room. To every eligible bachelor who met her gaze, she returned a gentle smile and a poised nod. But each of them only gave her a puzzled look before glancing away, clearly unimpressed. One might have been a fluke, but all of them?
Self-conscious, Elsie reached up and touched her face. Did her makeup smudge? This didn’t make sense… She hadn’t lost her charm. Maybe she just needed to freshen up in the restroom.
Then came the chatter.
“Ms. Taylor and Mr. Paul really are a stunning couple.”
“We’re just waiting for their wedding invitation!”
Elsie froze in her tracks. She turned just in time to lock eyes with the radiant Taylor. Taylor’s smile faded as her gaze swept over Elsie from head to toe, then curled into a mocking smirk.
The blatant disdain in Taylor’s expression quickly drew the attention of the nearby guests, who turned to look at Elsie-giving her the same up-and-down once-over.
Someone frowned. “Why is she wearing the same dress as Ms. Taylor?”
A voice dripped with contempt. “At such an important event, someone actually wore a knockoff? How embarrassing for the host family.”
How did she even get in with such a blunder?
Fiske’s face turned crimson. Flustered, she blurted, “This isn’t a fake?”
Someone scoffed. “So what you’re saying is Ms. Taylor’s dress is the knockoff? That she copied?”
Burning with humiliation, Elsie’s eyes welled up. “You can’t judge people based on where they…”
There’s no way Wyatt would give Yunice a lake gown. If Yunice was humiliated, that would mean Wyatt humiliated himself too.
Elsie was certain the gown she wore was the real one. Standing firm in that belief, she suddenly felt a tug at the small of her back. Whipping around, she saw a girl pulling a loose thread from her dress.
The girl laughed like she’d discovered buried treasure. “Wow, this is a first-custom couture with dangling threads?”
Elsie clutched the back of her dress, her face burning. She knew that truly expensive gowns were custom-tailored, handmade, and completely one-of-a-kind. What’s more, formal gowns were only ever worn once in public. Which meant only one gown could be real-hers or Taylor’s.
But hers couldn’t possibly be fake. She defended herself, “That thread must’ve been left by the tailor during alteration.”
She had barely finished the sentence when the others around her started laughing. The girl holding the thread scoffed, “All I know is, custom gowns are made to fit. Who alters a dress and leaves a thread hanging? Still want to claim it’s not fake?”
The others chuckled, while Taylor gave her a look like she wasn’t even worth the effort and turned to leave the embarrassing scene. The same girl flung the thread aside and said, “Don’t let people like this dirty the Powell family’s place.”
“Paul,” Elsie turned to Paul, panic rising in her voice. “You know this gown isn’t fake, right?”
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she looked at Paul with heartfelt desperation. Taylor’s expression darkened. She had already tolerated Elsie this much, and she still dared flirt with Paul.