Serena’s POV
The penthouse stands as a bastion of focused energy, the morning light streaming through the towering windows, casting a soft glow across the hardwood floor cluttered with clinic security logs, Dr. Helen Carter’s dossier, and the intercepted message hinting at her involvement. The air carries a faint trace of jasmine from my perfume, a lingering reminder of the intimate victory with Adrian after Pierce’s arrest, though today demands a different intensity. I stand by the dining table, my sapphire dress swapped for a sharp charcoal blazer and slacks, my hair tied back in a tight bun, my fingers tracing the edge of a photo—Helen Carter, her piercing gaze and confident smirk a stark contrast to my own journey. The foundation for Emily’s memory, now gaining momentum with the twins
