Chapter 6: The Veil Lifts
I didn’t sleep. The guest room in Mrs. Kline’s house was a shrine to floral wallpaper and porcelain dolls that seemed to watch me with judgmental glass eyes. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the note. I lied to you about everything.
But then, a memory flickered. Grandma Lorna, sitting at her sewing machine, her face illuminated by the small lamp. ‘If it matters, Emma, you don’t trust store-bought. You make the cover yourself. You protect what’s yours with your own hands.’
I sat up. I looked at the garment bag hanging on the back of the door.
It was high-quality, yes. It was thick and durable. But it had a brand name printed on the bottom in small, silver letters. It was store-bought.
“She didn’t put the dress in this bag,” I whispered.
I stood up and walked to the dress. I felt the fabric. It was beautiful, but it felt… exposed. I thought about the lilac scent in the tailor shop. I thought about the way Mr. Chen had found the note so quickly, as if he knew exactly where to look.
“The note wasn’t for me,” I realized, my blood turning to ice. “The note was made for me.”
I crept out of the guest room and into the hallway. The house was silent, but as I approached the kitchen, I heard the low murmur of a voice.
“Yes,” Mrs. Kline was saying. Her voice was no longer syrupy. It was sharp, cold, and efficient. “The note worked perfectly. She’s a wreck. She’s already agreed to sell. She’s staying here tonight.”
I stopped breathing, pressed against the wall.
“No, she doesn’t suspect a thing,” she continued. “Once I have the deed, we’ll finally get to it. Whatever Lorna was hiding in that cellar or behind those walls… it’s worth ten times the house. Lorna was a fool to think she could keep it secret forever.”
My hand flew to my mouth. They weren’t trying to help me. They were trying to manufacture a crisis to drive me out of my own home. There was no lie—only a legacy they were trying to steal.
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