THE LOST HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER DIVORCE
Chapter 55: The Cliff Scene

Chapter 55: The Cliff Scene

"You know, you’ve always been good at pretending," Lauren said with a cold smile. "Pretending to be the victim. Pretending to be perfect. Pretending you were loved."

Heather’s eyes darkened. "Pretending? Like how you pretended to care? Pretended you weren’t sleeping with my fiancé behind my back?"

Lauren’s smile only widened, her voice dripped with venom. "Mike loved me. He always did. He just didn’t know how to tell you."

Heather’s breath caught in her throat. "You ruined everything. Not just with Mike—but with this whole family. You’ve always had to be the center of attention."

"And you," Lauren said, stepping closer, "you’ve never been able to face the truth. That no matter how hard you try, you’ll always come second. To me. To him. To everyone."

Heather stood frozen. The words hit harder than she expected. Too close to the truth she’d worked so hard to ignore.

"You’re supposed to turn around," Lauren snapped, snapping Heather out of her thoughts.

Right. She’d gotten lost in her head and forgotten her cue—to turn her back on Lauren. It was the cliff scene.

Heather took her place at the edge of the artificial cliff. The set was built to mimic danger—fake rocks, a long drop painted to look real, a loud fan blowing like strong wind.

Crew members worked below, adjusting safety harnesses and camera angles. The harness strap around Heather’s waist dug into her ribs, but she barely noticed it. Her mind was louder than anything around her.

It was supposed to be just a stunt. A rehearsed fall. But for Heather, this scene was something else entirely.

It brought back memories of that day—the day she really did fall. Down the stairs, years ago. Her younger self crying in pain. The helplessness. The betrayal. The fear.

Lauren stepped into place beside her. Heather gave her a quick glance. Being near her brought it all back—the twisted past, the lies, the competition.

Lauren looked too calm. Like she knew exactly what she was doing. And what it would do to Heather.

Heather’s pulse quickened. The scene had cruel lines, but it wasn’t the script that made them hurt. It was Lauren’s voice. She meant every word.

"Action!"

The camera rolled. Lauren began moving closer, but stayed just far enough. Heather stepped toward the edge, staring down at the fake drop.

Her eyes blurred. Suddenly she wasn’t on a set anymore. She was back on the stairs. She could hear footsteps behind her—running. Just like that day.

"CUT! CUT!"

Heather’s voice rang through the set. Everyone turned toward her, surprised.

The director frowned. "Heather, what the hell? She’s supposed to push you, not—"

"I can’t do this scene," she said, her voice shaky.

"You’re Miss H’s star! This is your big moment."

"I’m not doing it," she repeated, pulling her trembling hand close so no one would see it.

The director walked toward her, concern replacing his irritation. "Heather, what’s going on? What’s the real problem here?"

Heather looked at him, feeling the tightness in her chest. It wasn’t the scene, it was her past. "I’m afraid of heights," she admitted softly.

The director paused, clearly surprised. "But in *Fly*... You did amazing. You didn’t seem scared at all."

Fly. Her first film and big break. A movie that earned praise and awards. Everyone loved the story, the performance; but even with the slightest chance, they hated her in that movie.

Most said she didn’t deserve the spot, others said she was the only D-list actress on that film.

But they didn’t know Miss H was her. Heather Remington. Only Penny and her agency knew. And back then, she was able to push through the fear. Now, it felt impossible.

"One more try," the director said gently. "And if it doesn’t work, we’ll use a double."

Heather nodded.

"Places!"

She returned to her mark. She held onto the locket around her neck—a prop from the film, symbolizing the sisterly bond her character shared with Lauren’s.

Lauren walked calmly to her spot. Heather stood still, her body still shaking. Her thoughts were heavy with fear.

"Cut!" Heather yelled again before anything could happen. Lauren hadn’t even moved yet.

But Heather was sure she felt her behind her. When she turned, everyone was staring.

"Sorry," she mumbled, breathing hard.

The director rubbed his forehead. He was trying to stay patient, but his frustration was clear.

Lauren walked over. "Who was that woman Caius took you to meet?"

Heather blinked, she was completely thrown off by that question. "His grandmother."

Lauren laughed quietly. "I called her an old hag. The one who’s supposed to give me her blessing when I marry Caius."

"You should show more respect."

Lauren rolled her eyes, then gave Heather a small tap on the shoulder. "Look at me."

"What?"

"Just because he took you to meet her doesn’t mean he loves you. If that’s what you’re thinking, you’re being foolish. Let him go."

Heather gave her a strange look. She didn’t even want Caius, neither did she think Caius wants her. But ever since yesterday, when Lauren saw her, she’s been giving her a strange glare. Not different from the way she normally looked at her, but more intense now.

She rolled her eyes. "You’re being delusional. I only see Caius as an enemy, nothing more or less."

"Whatever," Lauren said, as though she wasn’t even listening. "I don’t even know why he took you. He could’ve taken me. I would’ve been nicer. I can be nice. I am nice, right?"

Heather stared again. "Yeah. Totally."

"You’re lying to me."

"If you already know you’re a terrible person, why ask?"

"Capturing in a minute!" someone called from below.

Lauren bit her lip, then leaned in, her voice a whisper. "Do you think it’ll hurt this time?"

Heather turned fast. That wasn’t in the script. She stared, but the director’s voice snapped her back.

"From the top!"

Heather turned again, barely breathing. Before she could take another step, Lauren shoved her.

Heather screamed as she fell. The harness caught her just in time.

The jolt slammed through her, and for a moment, all she could see was the memory—the stairs, the pain, the fear.

Her body trembled. Her hands clawed at the air like she could stop the fall herself.

"Cut her loose!" someone yelled, but Heather barely heard them. Her mind was stuck in the past. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

When they finally lowered her and cut the harness, she collapsed to her knees. Her body shook uncontrollably.

She didn’t expect it, she hadn’t known how bad it would be.

Lauren rushed over, crouching beside her.

"Heather," she asked quietly, "are you okay?"

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