Chapter 259: Chapter 259

Chapter 259: Justice Speaks for Itself As soon as the words left his mouth, it was as if a thunderclap had exploded in the room.

Selina’s lamp... was the real one?

Then what did that make the Morris Family’s?

Kyle was the first to react, shouting, "What nonsense are you spouting?!"

Joe’s expression darkened. "Old Mr. Ford, the Morris Family respects your position, but this isn’t something you can say lightly. That Mercy Petal Lamp has been in our family for decades. I recall that ten years ago, you yourself appraised it and said it was authentic—did you not?"

Old Mr. Ford exchanged a look with Old Mr. Brooks, then sighed.

"Yes, ten years ago, I was less experienced and overlooked a critical detail. And it’s precisely that detail that proves authenticity."

Kyle gave a mocking laugh. "No need to make excuses, Old Mr. Ford. Are you saying the Morris Family’s collection loses to someone like Selina?"

Selina blinked.

Old Mr. Ford, as the president of the Antique Association, held significant authority. He met Kyle’s gaze firmly. "If you doubt it, Morris Junior, I can publicly share the entire appraisal process."

Without waiting for a response from the Morris Family, Old Mr. Ford walked toward the display table. The two lamps sat quietly on their velvet bases.

He bent slightly, pointing to one of the lamp’s brass petals. His tone was calm:

"Everyone, please look closely—this Mercy Petal Lamp features nine radiating petals, all smoothly curved. The brass is a tin-alloyed variety, showing slight oxidation. Estimated origin: mid-17th century."

The hall was silent, the only sound a faint camera click.

"We all know these early colonial ritual lamps, especially those with floral motifs, were handmade. But uniformity did not mean flawlessness."

He shifted to the second lamp—Selina’s.

"Now, this lamp has a slight irregularity in the third petal. Observe the angle here."

"This petal curves in more sharply, its edge subtly hooks inward. The engraving is inconsistent, and the brass is about 0.2 millimeters thinner."

Someone in the crowd frowned. "So... it’s defective?"

Old Mr. Ford shook his head, the faintest smile on his lips.

"No. That’s precisely what confirms it’s the original."

He straightened up, voice calm but resolute.

"Seventeenth-century craftsmanship didn’t involve molds. Even within a batch, every piece varied slightly. More importantly, these lamps weren’t made to be displayed—they were used in rituals, vigils, and even to receive a dying person’s final words."

"In one record I’ve studied about Plymouth ceremonial lamps, it mentioned ’the third of the original three had a flawed petal and was not used in the chapel, kept instead for private rites.’"

He added, voice cutting through the room: "The forgers missed this flaw. To them, the more ’perfect’ a replica looked, the more valuable it was. But to the craftsmen of that era—perfection meant it wasn’t real."

"Utter nonsense!" Kyle’s face was flushed. There was no way he could accept that his family’s prized heirloom was a fake—because it looked too good?

Old Mr. Brooks finally spoke. "Mr. Morris, feel free to bring in any other experts for a second opinion. Anyone with real credentials will be able to tell which of these lamps is authentic."

frёewebnoѵēl.com Old Mr. Ford nodded. "Yes. While the lamp Miss Angelica has is a replica, it’s still an old reproduction, at least three centuries old. It holds antique value."

Several other experts also nodded in agreement, confirming the truth behind Old Mr. Ford’s words.

At this point, there was little left to argue.

If both presidents of the Antique Association confirmed it—how could it still be fake?

"I thought the Morris Family was so aggressive earlier because they were confident their Mercy Petal Lamp was authentic!"

"Kyle kept looking down on Selina, but in the end... tsk, just goes to show it pays to be humble."

Angelica stumbled back a few steps.

A replica? A replica?!

She had been sure it was real, and now it was declared a mere reproduction?

How—how could that be? How could Selina’s lamp be the genuine one?!

"Sorry, Angelica," Selina said casually, "mine turned out to be the real one. Looks like I didn’t get the chance to embarrass myself today—should I give that chance to you instead?"

She smiled lightly. "Come to think of it, this was your poor planning. You were the one who invited me to this antique exchange. If I hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be this humiliated, right?"

"Selina!" Angelica’s eyes burned red with fury. She clenched her teeth but, with so many people watching, had no choice but to swallow her anger.

"But my mother bought the original! How could it turn out to be fake?!"

Kyle shouted in disbelief, then lit up as if remembering something.

"Old Mr. Ford, look! This certification from my mother—it clearly shows that one petal is flawed! That proves our Mercy Petal Lamp is the original!"

He turned sharply toward Selina.

"Tell me—how did a Morris Family treasure end up in your hands? Did you steal it?!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

It was a valid question. If the certificate pictured the real piece, how did their lamp become a fake? Had someone swapped it?

Selina narrowed her eyes. She was curious too—if Morris’ wife had bought the original and had a certificate to prove it, how did her own mother end up with the real one?

But if anyone dared say her mother had stolen it—Selina would never accept that.

Logan’s expression darkened.

"Throwing accusations without proof—is this what the Morris Family considers manners?"

"You—! The facts are right in front of you!" Kyle shouted.

Joe finally lost patience.

"My wife’s belongings are things I treasure deeply. Miss Clark, I ask that you return what belonged to her."

Angelica’s eyes welled with tears.

"Selina... I don’t care how you got it, or if you stole it. But that was my mother’s keepsake. Please, I’m just a daughter who lost her mom. Could you find it in your heart to return it?"

Some onlookers looked moved.

If Selina had indeed stolen a late mother’s heirloom from a grieving daughter...

"Trying to take The Mercy Petal Lamp from Miss Selina based on a single certificate? What are you, bandits?"

To everyone’s surprise, Selina didn’t have to speak—Old Mr. Ford stepped forward instead.

"Morris Junior—do you remember the case Selina used to store her lamp? That box was made by the preservation institute twenty years ago. I checked. That Mercy Petal Lamp hasn’t been touched in two decades!"

"Meanwhile, your lamp has been displayed, appraised, and exhibited over and over. How could they be the same one?"

Selina blinked.

Old Mr. Ford was right—her lamp had always been stored in that box.

If only the untouched lamp in storage was the real one, then Morris Family’s lie had unraveled completely.

Old Mr. Ford sighed with disappointment.

"Morris Junior, the money Miss Clark spent maintaining that lamp isn’t less than what your family invested. She clearly values antiques. How could a young woman like her steal from the Morris Family?"

Exactly! Selina was only in her early twenties. When would she have had the chance—or the skill—to steal something from the highly guarded Morris estate?

"Honestly, the Morris Family is ridiculous. It’s a fake—so what? No one was going to mock them for it, but they had to keep up the act."

"By their logic, if someone else has the real piece, it must’ve been stolen. Who’d dare deal with them after this?"

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Chapter 258: I’ve Got Your Back Apocalypse: The Supporting Actress Made a Comeback Chapter 739 - 395 Bite back Shadow Slave Chapter 2468 Home Bitter Home "They’re not just arrogant—it’s Angelica who’s the problem! If she hadn’t tried so hard to one-up Selina, the family wouldn’t have ended up humiliated like this."

The father and son duo from the Morris Family flushed crimson. Joe felt dizzy with rage.

Since taking over the family, no one had ever humiliated him like this.

He was certain Victoria had purchased the genuine lamp—so how did it end up with Selina?

This Selina girl—she had to be a shameless thief!

Joe was just about to speak when Selina suddenly asked,"Chairman Morris, if you don’t mind—what was your wife’s maiden name?"