Chapter 14 - The Hidden StudyJulian gripped the brass handle of the library door and pushed it open.
The beam of the flashlight cut through the dark, illuminating towering bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes. In the center of the room sat a massive mahogany desk, and sitting behind it, bathed in the pale light of a portable camping lantern, was an unexpected figure.
It wasn't Eleanor.
It was a frail, elderly woman wrapped in a heavy wool tartan shawl, her silver hair pulled back into a severe bun. Her face was lined with deep wrinkles, but her eyes—piercing, dark, and utterly familiar—flashed with a startling intensity as she looked up.
Sarah gasped, taking an involuntary step back.
"You..." Julian breathed, his voice trembling as the tablet slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor. "You're... you're supposed to be dead."
The elderly woman let out a dry, rasping chuckle that sounded like dry leaves scraping across stone.
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"Death is a very convenient narrative in the Vance family, Julian," she spoke, her voice raspy yet commanding. "Especially when the alternative is being locked away in a psychiatric asylum by an ambitious, greedy step-daughter-in-law who wanted total control of the empire."
It was Helena Vance—Julian’s biological mother, whom the family had mourned for over thirty years.
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