ong shadows across the marble floors of the Hawthorne manor. Evelyn moved through the hallways as if she were t

anxious. "The new Gabriel seems different," one whispered, eyes darting to

her replied. "She wants proof, some kind o

uncertainty that the Pretender brought. More than that, he hated how Evelyn's hope lit up whenever the man was

hrough the walls and into her bones. She sat by the window, clutching a fad

ulian entered without waiti

tly, stepping inside. "This man, this '

dy. "What if he's not? What

sn't he remember anything? Why can't he te

s words stirred. "Maybe..

, his gaze intense. "

hind a massive oak desk, her fingers steepled beneath her chi

llow this charade to continue. The estate, the business-i

know what you ask is harsh, but you

Pretender is truly Gabriel, he will pass. If not..." Her voice dropped to a

he grand library, surrounded by dusty tomes and fading

mething?" she asked, he

eyes shadowed.

about our family. About Gabriel.

g hers briefly. A flicker of some

ed him closely. For a moment, his eyes soften

ned. Servants spoke in whispers, Lady Beatrice's

f hope, even as the Pretender's secrets

m-not just as a sister, but as someone who sensed a dark

d letters, a woman watched the unfolding events with calculatin

hing will fall into place. The Hawthorne legacy wi

ving, but the game