The relentless, rhythmic beeping of the EKG monitor in Room 402 was a sound Clara had come to despise. Yet, it was the only thing keeping her anchored to sanity.

The interior of the estate was suffocatingly grand. Vaulted ceilings, Renaissance paintings, and cold, polished marble floors. There was no warmth here. Margaret’s letter had called them cruel. Elena was beginning to see why.

They sat in a massive, wood-paneled library. Elena had handed over the birth certificate, the silver rattle, and Margaret’s confession letter.

"A DNA test will be required, obviously," Julian said, pacing the room. He shot Elena a look of pure hostility. "Anyone could have found that box. You could be a grifter looking for a payday."

"I didn't even know who you were until three days ago," Elena shot back, her teacher’s voice cutting through his arrogance. "I didn't ask for this. I just buried the woman I thought was my mother."

Richard sat behind a massive mahogany desk, steepling his fingers. "Margaret," he said, the name dripping with venom. "I should have known it was that miserable woman. The police cleared her because she left town so quickly. I should have had her hunted down."

He looked at Elena, his gaze entirely devoid of paternal warmth. It was the gaze of a CEO evaluating a hostile merger.

"Assuming the DNA test confirms you are Chloe," Richard began, "your sudden reappearance is incredibly... complicated. We are in the middle of a multi-billion dollar merger with a Saudi firm. A media circus surrounding a kidnapped heir returning from the dead will tank our stock price."