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

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

the land, the building still stood untouched. She slipped in through a window and flicked on the lights. The past began to unfold before her as the light

old fire. It was

costs. He initially just

stripped away and replaced by elegant wall

location,

on a piece

reached to smooth

a hidden door. Surprise flickered in her eyes as she tore the

only one person at a time. She didn't have

and in this cramped space of less than a hundred square feet lay two

sight in the dead of

a man and a woman, surrounded by walls scribbled with coherent words

handwriting belonged to the two, their

authorities, then returned to scrutinize the wall scribbles. Time and moisture had blurred the words, and smoke blackened the

written in

"He stole my identity."

"I can't go on."

"I'm dying."