Unlike the quiet ride to the border, the return trip was filled with conversation. Simon was exceptionally talkative.


    As he drove, he chatted nonstop. "With Mark in custody, our mission in Vexel is finally over. We can head back to Istra with peace of mind. And really, it''s all thanks to you. If it weren''t for your help, who knows how long that slippery bastard would have stayed on the run."


    “It was just a coincidence," Yvonne said. “I''m d I could help.”


    "You helped more than you know," Simon insisted, his hands steady on the wheel. "For a single guy like me, it doesn''t matter where I''m stationed. But Mr. Thompson..... if he didn''t get back soon, his girlfriend would start to worry."


    "He and his girlfriend must be very close," Yvonne asked, her voice a little tight.


    "Of course!" Simon replied without hesitation. "They''re a perfect match-from simr backgrounds, both brilliant and good-looking. His girlfriend is a renowned pianist; she even held a solo concert once. Our whole unit went to support her. When she and Mr. Thompson yed a piano duet, you could feel the envy in the room. It was incredible."


    "Is that so? That''s wonderful," Yvonne said, a faint, bitter smile touching her lips.


    She and Bet used to y duets, too. But she had always been too restless to practice properly, her clumsy ying always holding him back. Perhaps he was better off with someone who shared his passion, someone gentle and thoughtful. She should be happy for him, that he had found someone better after she was gone.


    After nearly ten hours on the road, they finally reached the outskirts of Vexel. As Simon was driving, his phone rang. He answered it with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel.


    "We''re almost at the airport. The flight''s this afternoon. I promise get Ms Jones back to Istra safely." He hung up and grinned at Yvonne. "That was Mr Thompson, making sure I get you back in one piece.''


    "Thank you for everything," she replied quietly.


    “Don''t mention it. Happy to serve,” Simon said with another smile.


    Their flight was in the afternoon, and theynded at Istra International Airport in the evening. After dening, Yvonne and Simon walked out of the terminal together with the crowd.


    "My cab is here," Yvonne told him. “Thanks again for escorting me. You should get some rest."


    "Alright then. Take care," Simon said, giving her a friendly wave as she climbed into the taxi.


    Returning from Vexel, she couldn''t go back to the Cherry Apartment. Her only option was the Spencer family home.


    Ever since the donation ceremony, life had been difficult for the Spencers. In the age of the inte digging up information on someone was effortless. The story of Yvonne and Queena being switched at birth was already an open secret at the Istra Theater Academy and among the city''s elite. Queena, the popr young starlet propped up by the Spencer family''s resoufees, was now trending for all the wrong reasons. Labeled a "fake heiress," she was facing a massive public bacsh.


    In


    Two of her uing dramas were abruptly pulled, all hermercials and endorsements were canceled and she was facingwsuits for breach of contract. A major film role she had just secured vanished without a trace. Word was that the producers of Mr Turner''s new film had already cut all of Queens scenes. Since it was a male-led drama and her role had been artificially inted, her removal surprisingly didn''t affect the plot''s coherence.


    Queena, who had always been coddled by her agency, Nexus Media, and adored


    by her fans, was now a social pariah.