Arielle had been restless for days. Ever since she discovered the old newspaper clipping tucked inside one of the books in the Vescari mansion’s library, her thoughts hadn’t been able to settle. Every night she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, hearing Celine’s name whisper through her mind like an echo she couldn’t silence. Kairo’s sister. A suicide. A tragedy that no one dared to speak of.
But what unsettled her more was the subtle trail of connections leading back to her own family. The idea of it continued to press down on her chest like a weight. And unless she uncovered it, she would never understand why Kairo treated her with such conflicting emotions—sometimes protective, sometimes unbearably cold.
It was this weight that pushed her to call her cousin.
Her cousin through he
