CHAPTER 3 — The Orphanage File
That night, the Whitman estate went silent.
No music. No guests. No celebration.
Only old boxes being dragged across marble floors.
Evelyn sat in the study, surrounded by orphanage records she had fought for years to retrieve. Ava stood across from her, still wearing the ruined black uniform, still smelling faintly of wine and humiliation.
Hannah stayed beside her like a shield.
Then Evelyn stopped.
Her fingers froze on a faded file.
“Here,” she whispered.
Ava leaned in.
Her name wasn’t there.
Instead: Female infant — unidentified — recovered near Riverside Highway.
Below it: a note.
Transferred under sealed adoption request.
Evelyn’s face turned pale.
“This wasn’t abandonment,” she said. “This was removal.”
Ava stepped back slightly.
“From who?”
May you like
Evelyn looked up slowly.
“From me.”
