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The air in the tiny blue house suddenly felt too thin to breathe. Damian Morrison, a man who commanded global conglomerates with a single nod, stood frozen in the doorway, his designer overcoat contrasting sharply with the peeling wallpaper. / Chapter 7 / 9

Chapter 8 - THE LOST IDENTITYDamian sat in the wreckage of his library. He had no fortune, no name, and a father who had been a criminal mastermind.

"Who am I?" he whispered to himself.

Haley walked in and hugged him. "You’re my dad. That’s who you are."

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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...

Maya stepped forward, holding her doll. "And you’re my friend."

Damian realized that while the money was gone, the truth was his to define. He wouldn't be a Morrison. He would be whoever he chose to be.

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