The silence that filled Nathan's study after she caught him watching her was louder than any scream.
Adelina's breath came shallow, her hand still resting on the folder filled with images of herself—images no brother should have.
"I was just—" she began, her voice barely audible.
"You were looking for the truth," Nathan finished, stepping closer, his tone unreadable. "Go ahead. Ask me what you want to ask."
She met his eyes. "Why do you have those pictures?"
He didn't flinch. "Because no one else ever truly saw you. Not like I did."
Adelina closed the folder, the tension between them thickening like fog.
Nathan stepped back, giving her space. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
But she already was.
She left the study without another word, the weight of everything she had just seen pressing down on her chest. That night, sleep was fractured—haunted not by nightmares, but by the unbearable clarity of reality.
The next morning, she wandered the halls again, restless and unsatisfied. Mira was out shopping. Anya was tending to the laundry. The estate felt strangely empty.
That's when she heard it.
Raised voices. Behind the closed double doors of Victor's office.
She knew better than to eavesdrop.
But she did anyway.
"You promised me she'd be safe this time!" Nathan's voice—low but seething.
"She is," Victor said, calmer but with a clipped edge. "You're the one making it dangerous by obsessing over her. You're drawing attention."
"I'm protecting her. From everyone—including you."
A sharp silence.
Then Victor's voice again, darker now. "We buried this once. We don't have the luxury of repeating history."
Adelina's blood ran cold.
"History?" she whispered.
She pressed closer, heart pounding.
Victor's voice softened, a little regretful. "There are things she doesn't remember. Things she never should."
"And if she does?" Nathan challenged.
"Then it'll be your fault."
A door creaked from inside. She hurried away before they could catch her.
Later that afternoon, she sat alone in the east library, staring at a blank notebook, trying to make sense of what she had heard.
Nathan was hiding something.
So was Victor.
Everyone around her seemed to be playing a part in a story she didn't understand—but she was the central character. The fragile girl in the glass tower. The one everyone wanted to protect... or control.
She didn't even hear Stefan enter until he was right behind her.
"You're digging again, aren't you?" he said casually, leaning against the bookshelf.
She turned, startled. "What?"
He crossed his arms, studying her. "You've been poking around. Don't deny it. And now Father and Nathan are both snapping like cornered dogs."
"I just want the truth."
"You're not ready for it."
Adelina stood. "That's not your choice."
Stefan's smile faded. "Maybe not. But you should know something: Nathan isn't your savior. He's your shadow. And eventually, shadows consume the light."
She stared at him. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I'm tired of pretending this family is sane. And because Cassandra might be cruel, but Nathan? He's something else entirely."
Then he left her standing there, chilled to the bone.
That night, she returned to the study. Not Nathan's—her own.
She searched through old drawers, cabinets, journals. At the back of the lowest drawer, tucked beneath false bottom panels, she found a box of old newspaper clippings.
They were yellowed with time, folded and creased.
She began to read.
Heiress Hospitalized After Tragic Fall—Gavrila Family Denies Negligence
Young Daughter Removed From School Following Unnamed Incident
Charity Gala Ends Abruptly—Eyewitnesses Report Scream from Gavrila Wing
Each one cryptic. Carefully edited. None mentioned Adelina directly by name, but the timeline matched. The location. The implications.
There was something terrible the family had hidden. A scandal. A breakdown. Maybe worse.
Her hands trembled.
She put the articles back, slid the drawer shut, and turned—
A folded piece of paper now sat on her desk.
She hadn't seen it earlier.
She opened it with numb fingers.
You're asking too many questions. Remember your place before you lose it again.
No name. No handwriting she recognized.
Her breath hitched. Someone had been in her room.
Someone was watching her.
She bolted from the study and made her way to Nathan's wing, her heart pounding. But before she could reach his door, he was already there, waiting.
Almost as if he knew.
His expression darkened when he saw her face.
"What happened?" he asked.
She handed him the note. Watched his eyes scan the words. His jaw tightened.
"I'm going to find out who did this," he said.
"I want the truth," she said, trembling. "All of it."
He looked at her. And for the first time, she saw something behind his usual restraint—fear.
"Someone in this house doesn't want you to remember," he said quietly. "And it's not just Father."
"Who then?" she whispered.
His lips parted.
But before he could answer, the lights flickered.
A scream echoed from the west wing.
And everything plunged into darkness.