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Beside my hand, Julian’s tiny fingers—fingers that had remained limp for months—had twitched. He hadn't just moved; he had shifted his weight toward the sound of my voice. / Chapter 5 / 10

Chapter 5 - THE CONSPIRACYIt turned out Julian’s condition wasn't a random developmental delay. It was a targeted side effect of a prenatal drug I had unknowingly authorized as part of a pharmaceutical trial my company had backed. I was the architect of my son's prison, and the company was using Lauren to ensure no one discovered the truth.

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The heavy mahogany door of the east gallery closed softly behind me, but the silence inside did not comfort me. It pressed down like lead.

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The cool marble of the private east gallery felt chilling beneath my fingertips. The pale moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated The Blue Woman, the haunting masterpiece my mother had painted just weeks before her tragic death.

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