The Double or more Life of the Fake Heiress (Mirabella)

"Mira, back from the race already?" Mrs. Thompson called out as she stood in the doorway of her quaint corner store.
As the old lady's voice caught her attention, Mirabella, decked out in sleek black cycling gear, smoothly applied the brakes to her bike. With a
practiced toe-touch to the ground, she removed her helmet, and her long ponytail cascaded down, giving her an air of effortless grace and cool
beauty.
Mrs. Thompson couldn't help but sigh internally as she watched Mirabella. She really was something special. Even riding a bike, she exuded an aura
that set her apart from the rest.
"Oh, by the way, it looked like you had visitors at home – they arrived in a car so fancy, it'd make your head spin! My son said it's worth a fortune,
probably more than any car in our whole town..." Mrs. Thompson exaggerated with her hands as she spoke.
Mirabella listened thoughtfully, her delicate features betraying no particular emotion.
Noticing Mirabella's silence, Mrs. Thompson cautiously looked around before leaning in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "Mira, tell me the
truth. How did your family come to know such wealthy folks? Or did you... perhaps offend someone?"
Mrs. Thompson remembered that there was also a commotion involving a fancy car at Mirabella's house last year.
Mirabella's eyelids twitched slightly, and she couldn't help but give a wry smile at Mrs. Thompson's wild speculation. To avoid any misunderstanding,
she replied softly, "Maybe they're like, distant cousins or something."
As soon as she said this, confusion spread across Mrs. Thompson's face, but before she could probe further, Mirabella had already put her helmet
back on and waved goodbye. "I better get going, Mrs. Thompson."
Mrs. Thompson watched Mirabella ride away, murmuring to herself, "Wasn't her family known for being hard up?"
Where did these wealthy distant cousins come from?
***
As Mirabella approached her house, she could already see the fancy black sedan parked in the alley outside the gate. It bore the majestic emblem of
an eagle in flight, with a stately and dynamic body. It’s a Bentley, no less, worth a pretty penny.
A mysterious smile played at the corners of Mirabella's lips as she dismounted her bike and deftly pressed a few clips. In the blink of an eye, the bike
folded down into a size that was even more compact than an 11-inch laptop.

With the gate ajar, she easily picked up the folded bike and stepped onto the property. She hadn't even reached the main house when a series of
sharp voices cut through the air.
"Mom, why are you so stubborn? What's so precious about this old place that you insist on staying?"
"I've told you, I bought you a big, beautiful house in the city, complete with a caretaker to look after you. It's far better than here in every way."
"Just look at this dingy floor, the faded walls, and the leaking roof whenever it rains. Does any of that scream 'comfort' to you?"
"Your health isn't the best, yet you choose to live in this damp, moldy old house. Others might think we're poor, or worse, that your children are
neglecting you..."
Still in the yard, Mirabella paused thoughtfully as the words reached her. But then, she lifted her chin with resolve.