Naomi’s POV
The new girl in the west wing didn’t speak.
She didn’t run.
She didn’t knock.
She just appeared—like she was always supposed to be here, and she acted like she was being controlled.
Security hadn’t seen her enter, she just appeared like a ghost from nowhere.
None of the staff had let her through.
She stood barefoot on the marble, curls identical to Miranda’s, wearing a pale gray dress that clung to her thin frame like it had been sewn on.
My goodness, the sight wasn't anything I could say, she was too young for all this happening.
I moved slowly towards her even though my legs were numb, I just needed to go.
When I approached, she said only one word.
“Three.”
Three?
Then she turned and walked into the shadows, disappearing like a ghost.
And somehow, deep down… I k
