Chapter 14

I don’t remember walking back to my room.

The words keep echoing in my head, over and over, like a slow, shattering truth I don’t want to face.

"If she remembers everything, I’ll lose her."

Julian’s voice. His fear. His hesitation.

It doesn’t sound like a man protecting me.

It sounds like a man protecting himself.

I close the door behind me, pressing my back against it, my breath uneven. The mansion is too quiet, the kind of silence that feels unnatural, like the walls themselves are listening. I grip the edge of the vanity, my fingers pressing into the wood, trying to ground myself.

My reflection stares back at me in the mirror, pale and unfamiliar.

Who am I?

The question won’t stop repeating itself.

I press my hands to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. Think, Ana. What if Elias was right? What if Julian took something from me—something bigger than just memories?

What if…

I’m not the person I think I am?

A soft knock at the door makes me jolt.

I spin around, my pulse hammering. "Yes?"

Silence.

Another knock.

I step forward cautiously, my fingers hesitating over the handle before I pull the door open.

The hallway is empty.

But at my feet—

A letter.

My breath catches.

Another one.

The paper is folded neatly, the ink dark, bold. The same way it was before. The first letter told me to run before it’s too late. The second shattered the foundation of everything I thought I knew—You weren’t always his.

And now this.

I bend down, my fingers trembling as I pick it up. I unfold the parchment, my breath catching as I read the words written inside.

"You are not who you think you are."

My chest tightens.

A cold, sharp feeling crawls down my spine.

The words blur for a second as I stare at them, my breath uneven.

What does this mean?

My hands tremble as I clutch the letter, my mind racing. Who is doing this? Who keeps leaving these?

And why does it feel like the truth is closing in on me?

A creak from down the hall snaps me out of my thoughts.

I jerk my head up.

Someone’s there.

I know it.

The shadows shift near the far end of the corridor, disappearing around the corner.

I don’t think. I move.

I step out into the hall, the letter clutched tightly in my grip. My bare feet are silent against the floor as I make my way toward where I saw the movement. The air is colder here, the candlelight flickering against the dark wood.

I turn the corner.

Nothing.

The corridor stretches out ahead of me, empty and still.

But I know someone was here.

Someone left this for me.

I scan the walls, the doors, the corners cloaked in shadow.

And then—

A whisper.

Not out loud.

In my head.

"You’re getting close."

My breath catches.

The voice isn’t mine.

I press my palm against the wall, trying to steady myself. I’m losing my mind. First the blood-stained mirror, now this?

I glance down at the letter again.

You are not who you think you are.

The words feel heavier now, like they’re not just a warning.

Like they’re a fact.

A door creaks open behind me.

I whirl around.

Julian.

He stands in the doorway of his study, his expression unreadable. The dim light catches against his sharp features, his dark hair slightly tousled like he’d been running his hands through it.

His eyes drop to the letter in my hands.

Something shifts in his expression.

I don’t speak.

I can’t.

I don’t know how to look at him now.

Not after hearing what he said to Celeste.

Not after this letter.

Not after the truth is coming for me, whether I want it or not.

"Ana." His voice is steady, careful.

I don’t move.

His eyes flicker to my grip on the paper, then back to my face. "What is that?"

I force myself to breathe. "Nothing."

A lie.

And Julian knows it.

His expression tightens. "Did someone leave that for you?"

I say nothing.

The silence between us stretches—thick, unbearable.

Then, Julian exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. "Ana, please."

I hate how soft his voice is.

How genuine it sounds.

Because I don’t know if I can believe it anymore.

I take a step back.

Julian watches me carefully, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

"Ana," he says again, quieter this time. "Tell me what it says."

I swallow hard. "Why?"

"Because I need to know who’s trying to turn you against me."

His words send a chill through me.

Turn me against him?

As if the truth isn’t enough to do that on its own?

I don’t respond.

I just look at him—really look at him.

The way his jaw is tight. The way his hands curl slightly at his sides.

And I realize—

He’s scared.

Of this letter.

Of what I might find out.

Of me.

My throat tightens. "Who am I, Julian?"

His breath catches.

He doesn’t speak.

That silence—it’s the worst thing of all.

Because now, I know.

I know that the truth is something I was never supposed to find.

And Julian—

Julian is the one who buried it.