That night, the house felt far quieter than usual.

Even the ticking of the wall clock—normally a comforting rhythm in her lonely nights—seemed reluctant to echo.

Evalina sat in the living room, a small wooden box open on her lap.

A gold necklace with the initials E.R. glimmered faintly under the dim light. And a photo—an old, faded picture—showed two children standing side by side. A boy and a girl. Both with silver eyes. Both staring at the camera without a smile.

Evalina couldn't stop staring.

“Is that me? Or is that her?” she wondered. But the question of who was “me” and who was “her” only grew more blurred....