CHAPTER 2 — The Truth Beneath the Locket
The ballroom no longer felt like a wedding hall.
It felt like a courtroom where silence was the loudest verdict.
Ava stood frozen as Evelyn Whitman held the locket like it was made of fragile glass and broken time. Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from recognition that hurts deeper than words.
Patricia Hartwell stepped back.
For the first time that night, she didn’t look powerful.
She looked cornered.
“That’s impossible,” Patricia whispered. “That girl died. You said she died—”
Evelyn’s head snapped up.
“She was taken,” she said quietly. “Not dead.”
Ava’s breath caught.
“I don’t understand…” she whispered. “I was left at St. Mercy Orphanage. That’s all I know.”
Evelyn stepped closer, her voice breaking for the first time.
“Then someone lied to you your entire life.”
May you like
Hannah slowly reached for Ava’s hand.
And for the first time, Ava didn’t pull away.
