Brielle’s POV
Brielle sat at the edge of her bed, the envelope with Clarissa’s handwriting trembling in her hands. She’d read it twice already, but the words still carved fresh wounds across her chest every time her eyes returned to the ink.
"I begged her to tell you. I begged your mother to stop protecting the wrong people. You deserved the truth. You were just a child. She chose silence. I’m sorry. – Clarissa.”
The paper crackled as her fingers tightened. It wasn’t just about lies anymore—it was about being denied the very pieces of herself. Fiona had stolen more than time; she’d stolen clarity, stolen the right to mourn what Brielle never knew she had.
A soft knock pulled her out of the spiral. The door opened slowly, revealing Fiona, hesitant and pale in the low light.
"You found
