Chapter 190: Elena’s Decision

Elena Whitmore sat alone in the small sitting room off the eastern corridor, the one no one used anymore because it did not impress. The furniture was old. Comfortable. Chosen before appearances became mandatory. She had retreated there deliberately, away from mirrors, away from staff trained to notice every fracture in her composure.

Outside the tall windows, Aurelia moved with its usual discipline. Cars glided along manicured roads. The city performed order even when its foundations shifted.

Inside, Elena’s hands shook.

She had not cried. Not yet. Crying still felt like surrender, and she was not ready to surrender. What she felt instead was a pressure behind her eyes, as if something long restrained was pressing outward, demanding form.

Birth records did not mismatch by a