Elena called Priscilla immediately, her hands trembling as she dialed, understanding, with sick dread, that whatever conversation followed would either confirm the most devastating betrayal this entire remarkable year had produced, or reveal something considerably more complicated than simple, calculated deception.Priscilla arrived within the hour, her expression carrying visible confusion at the urgent, late night summons, confusion that shifted rapidly toward genuine, devastated shock the moment Elena showed her the century old correspondence bearing her own family name."That's not possible," she said, staring at the document with trembling hands, her careful, professional composure entirely dissolved beneath obvious, overwhelming distress. "Elena, I swear to you, I've never once heard any family history suggesting connection to this network.""The correspondence is nearly seventy years old," Elena said carefully, watching her reaction with cautious, desperate hope. "It's possible
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