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My fingers trembled as I reached into the pocket of Mom’s beige coat. The fabric felt unnaturally heavy. / Chapter 5 / 10

Chapter 5 - THE CONFRONTATIONI knew I couldn't stay hidden anymore. I walked out of the bedroom, holding the velvet pouch.

"Looking for this, Aunt Marilyn?"

The room went silent. Marilyn’s eyes widened, her face twisting into something truly demonic. "You little brat. You were supposed to be in school."

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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.

The heavy mahogany door of the east gallery closed softly behind me, but...

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.

The cool marble of the private east gallery felt chilling beneath my fin...

"I faked being sick," I said, my voice surprisingly steady for a twelve-year-old. "And I recorded your phone call."

I pulled out my mom’s old digital recorder—the one I’d been using for my "school projects." I pressed play. The room filled with Marilyn’s voice: "She'll never understand what happened. We'll be completely clear."

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