My mother used to wind it when I was little.

I walked toward it.

The melody began.

A song I hadn't heard since childhood.

I closed my eyes.

A memory surfaced.

A little girl.

Holding my hand.

Laughing.

Running through the room.

A woman shouting.

My father carrying someone.

Blood.

A locked door.

I opened my eyes.

Daniel was staring at me.

“You remembered.”

I nodded.

“There was another girl.”

“Yes.”

“She was older than me.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to her?”

Daniel looked toward the far wall.

“There.”

A portrait hung above the fireplace.

I had never noticed it before.

Two little girls.

One was me.

The other stood beside me.

Same eyes.

Same hair.

Same smile.

I stepped closer.

There was a small plaque beneath the portrait.

Eleanor and Claire.

My hands shook.

“She's my sister.”

Daniel nodded.

I touched the painting.

Then something clicked.

The portrait moved.

A narrow opening appeared behind it.

A hidden room.

Inside was a bed.

A desk.

A bookshelf.

And photographs.

Hundreds of them.

The girl.

Growing older.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Alive.

I stared.

She was alive.

My sister.

My entire life had been built around a lie.

Then I saw the final photograph.

A woman standing beside my father.

Older now.

Thirty-two.

Alive.

And smiling.

The woman in the photograph looked directly at the camera.

I knew her face.

I had seen it before.

On the screen.

At Ashford House.

In my mother's terrified eyes.

My sister was not hiding in the Vale estate.

She was the woman who had opened the gates.

The woman who had said:

Welcome to the family.

Victoria Ashford.

I stepped backward.

“No.”

Daniel looked at the photograph.

His face collapsed.

“Victoria.”

Adrian stared.

“She's your sister?”

I couldn't speak.

The truth was finally coming together.

The third family.

The missing heir.

The Ashfords.

My mother.

My father.

All of them.

Victoria Ashford wasn't simply the daughter of the enemy.

She was Eleanor Vale.

The original heir.

My sister.

And if that was true, then the woman who had spent thirty years waiting for Meridian to choose its heir…

…had already chosen herself.

I looked at the final photograph.

On the back was a handwritten sentence.

I turned it over.

Seven words.

Only one sister can inherit everything.

My phone rang.

The caller ID showed one name.

Victoria.

I answered.

Her voice was calm.

Almost affectionate.

“Hello, Claire.”

I couldn't speak.

She laughed softly.

“Now you finally know who I am.”

I gripped the phone.

“Where is my mother?”

“With me.”

“Let her go.”

“No.”

“What do you want?”

There was a pause.

Then Victoria said:

“Your house.”

I looked around the nursery.

“My house?”

“No.”

Her voice became colder.

“Your place in it.”

I felt my stomach tighten.

“What does that mean?”

“You have seven months until the trust becomes yours.”

She paused.

“I have thirty-two years of blood.”

I stared at the photograph.

Victoria continued.

“Let's see which one the family chooses.”

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone.

Adrian looked at me.

“What did she say?”

I looked at Daniel.

Then at the photograph.

Then at the hidden room.

“The war isn't between the families anymore.”

Daniel's voice was quiet.

“Then what is it?”

I looked at the woman who had been my sister all along.

“Between the heirs.”

And somewhere beneath the house, a lock clicked.

Another door had opened.

::