LOGINTwo hours later, she stood in front of the grand Whitlock mansion, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock on either side of her. The weight of their presence pressed down on her, though neither of them spoke as she took slow, deliberate steps toward the sleek black car waiting in the driveway. Martin stood by the open passenger door, his expression unreadable, and just as she reached for the handle, Mrs. Whitlock’s voice sliced through the air. “Wait,” she said. She spun around, her heart lurching with a flicker of hope. Maybe they’d changed their minds. Maybe this wasn’t happening. Maybe— But then Mrs. Whitlock stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. “You are going to be missed,” she murmured against her shoulder. She swallowed hard, biting back the urge to scoff. Missed? It felt more like they were relieved to be sending her away. But she kept those thoughts to herself, giving nothing away. She didn’t say a word—just nodded. After a brief moment, Mrs. Whitlock pulled back, her h
The conversation should have started immediately. The weight of their halted discussion pressed down on her like an unseen force, heavy and suffocating. But instead, Mrs. Whitlock reached for a serving spoon, her movements graceful and deliberate. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, a knowing glint in her eyes. “But we eat first.” Just like that, the tension in the air shifted—not gone, but momentarily replaced by the rich, mouthwatering aroma of the food before them. The spread was nothing short of extravagant. Fluffy, golden croissants sat next to neatly arranged fruit platters, the vibrant colors of strawberries, grapes, and mango slices glistening under the dining room’s elegant lighting. There were delicate smoked salmon canapés, eggs cooked to perfection, and a creamy dish that looked like it had been lifted straight from a five-star restaurant’s menu. She watched, slightly stunned, as Mrs. Whitlock served her husband first, then herself, and—to her utter surprise—
"Okay," Nina said, her voice quiet but firm. She meant it. And honestly? She instantly admired Janet Whitlock. It took real strength to be this open, to lay bare emotions she had spent months locking away. For the first time, Nina saw her not as the cold, distant Mrs. Whitlock, but as a grieving mother, still trying to find her footing in a world without her daughter. Janet nodded slightly, her gaze lingering on Nina. It was different this time—not like the scrutinizing look she had given her the night before when she had suspected secrets were being kept. No, this was deeper. It was the first time Janet was really seeing her. And just like that, her eyes welled up again. "Why are you crying?" Nina asked, startled. Janet had just calmed her down, and now she was falling apart. Janet let out a small, shaky breath. "You look so uncannily like Adelaide. It terrifies me sometimes. I wouldn’t have believed it when Rose first told me she had seen someone who looked exactly like h
Somehow, she had made it back to her room in one piece, though she had no recollection of the walk. The weight of Mrs. Whitlock’s accusations still pressed against her chest, suffocating, while the unspoken tension from the dining table clung to her like a second skin. Her body had moved on autopilot, dragging her away from the wreckage of that conversation before she could fully process the damage left behind. Now, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the full weight of her choices settled on her like an anchor. Becoming Adelaide Whitlock had once felt like survival—a way out. But now, every step felt like walking a razor’s edge, slipping into shoes that had never been her size. And the worst part? She didn’t know how much longer she could walk in them without falling. Questions churned in her head, tangled and relentless. They chased her deep into the night, twisting, turning, until her thoughts blurred into exhaustion. She had no idea when she finally drifted off, but wh
“Yes,” Nina said, her voice quieter than she intended. The weight of it settled over her like a lead blanket. But this wasn’t even her fault. Axel hadn’t learned about Adelaide’s illness from her. And yet, she was the one sitting here, about to deliver the kind of news that could crack the very foundation of the Whitlock family. She glanced around, her pulse kicking up a notch. The dining room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional clink of silverware against china. No housemaids in sight—but that didn’t mean they weren’t nearby. In this house, secrets were currency, and she wasn’t sure if she could afford to speak freely in an open space like this. Mrs. Whitlock must have sensed her hesitation because she followed Nina’s gaze, scanning the room with sharp, calculating eyes. Then, as if reading her mind, she met Nina’s stare and said, “You can talk freely. No one is here to eavesdrop.” Nina swallowed. Alright then. No more stalling. “Axel knows.” The reaction was instant.
The moment Nina stepped back into her room and shut the door behind her, she let out a slow breath. Her hands were slightly clammy, her mind racing with everything Axel had said. If his expression had been anything to go by, Adelaide’s condition had been far worse than she had originally thought. And she had just declared herself cured. She needed answers—fast. Moving toward the mirror, she steadied herself before calling, “Adele?” At the sound of her name, the smart AI embedded within the mirror blinked to life, its soft blue glow illuminating the dim room. After a brief booting sequence, her voice chimed through the speakers. “Adele at your service. How may I be of help?” Nina swallowed hard before speaking. “Tell me everything I need to know about Adelaide’s illness. And… if there’s a cure for it.” Adele’s digital eyes flickered as if deep in thought. “Working on it…” Nina gripped the edge of the dresser, her heart pounding as she waited. A few moments later, Adele’s







