The letter arrived on a Monday, three weeks after the trial ended.Isabella found it in the mailbox, the envelope thick and cream-colored, a Parisian postmark in the corner. Her name was written in handwriting she didn't recognize, elegant, looping, feminine.She opened it with steady hands.Dear Isabella,I know you don't know me. I know you have no reason to trust me. But I need to tell you the truth about Alexander, about the other family, about the child who survived.His name is Thomas. He's been hiding for thirty years, waiting for the right moment to come forward.He's ready now.Please. Meet me at the cemetery tomorrow. Noon. A FriendIsabella read the letter twice, then handed it to Sebastian."Another Friend," she said."Another secret.""Another chance to uncover the truth."Sebastian nodded slowly. "We go together."The cemetery was old, the headstones weathered, the grass overgrown.Isabella stood at the gate, Sebastian beside her, her heart pounding. The fog rolled in f
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