Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

When Brielle and Aubree parted ways, dusk had already painted the sky in shades of fading gold.

Aubree had taken Brielle out to distract her mind, resulting in a haul of outfits and a trove of gleaming trinkets and baubles.

Aubree had always indulged her, so when Brielle returned to Pearl Estate, laden with bags from Hermès and Bulgari, she was too exhausted to utter a single word.

Still, the shadow Max cast lingered in her mind, an enigmatic silhouette spinning in her thoughts.

She splashed her face with water in the restroom, the events of the past few days throbbing in her head like needle pricks.

The identity of the person who had forged her past remained a mystery to her, a puzzle unsolved.

Without uncovering their identity, she felt an ominous plot was waiting for her just around the corner.

Aubree's presence during the day had kept her anxiety at bay, but with the arrival of night, sleep eluded her despite her weariness.

Rising from her bed, Brielle grabbed her car keys and drove straight to the old site of Sunflower Children's Home.

She had meant to visit after settling Mark's affairs, feeling certain secrets still lay hidden there.

In her dreams, the fire had seemed too random, as if it had been deliberately set with the intention of claiming her life.

the sacrifice of another child had saved

after Brielle since she was so young, what could the secret she

stood untouched. She slipped in through a window

to the site of the old fire. It was still a records room, now masked with fresh wallpaper hiding the

to save costs. He initially just pasted old

she began donating to the home, the old papers were stripped away and

moved to the new location, but Brielle

rummaged through every cabinet until her gaze caught on a piece of peeling wallpaper, revealing an unfinished layer

reached

into place, she uncovered a hidden door. Surprise flickered in her eyes as she tore the rest of the wallpaper

a time. She didn't have to go far

this cramped space of less than a hundred square

a sight in the dead of night,

man and a woman, surrounded by walls

to the

to scrutinize the wall scribbles. Time and moisture had blurred the words,

written in bold, clear strokes remained

"He stole my identity."

"I can't go on."

"I'm dying."