The rain had stopped, but the air still pulsed with stormlight — thick and heavy, like even the sky feared what would come next.

Isabella followed Lucia into the mansion that once belonged to her family. The vast marble halls whispered of forgotten years — portraits of the Romano line stared down with hollow eyes, dust clinging to their gold frames.

Every step echoed like a heartbeat.

“I remember this place,” Isabella murmured. “I used to hide behind that staircase. You’d find me every time.”

Lucia smiled faintly. “You were always curious. Always looking for the truth, even when it hurt.”

She turned, her silk dress whispering across the floor....