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.

had saved Brielle, trading their life for

someone had been after Brielle since she was so young, what

building still stood untouched. She slipped in through a window

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

Mark's idea to save costs. He initially just

the old papers were stripped away and replaced by elegant wall coverings,

been moved to the new location, but Brielle had

cabinet until her gaze caught on a

she reached

Surprise flickered in her eyes as she tore the rest of the wallpaper

person at a time. She didn't have to go far to find a light

was a modest bed, and in this cramped space of less than a hundred square feet lay two

a sight in

corpses were old, a man and a woman, surrounded by walls scribbled with coherent

to the

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

line written in bold, clear strokes remained

"He stole my identity."

"I can't go on."

"I'm dying."