The Sins We Inherit

Seraphina's POV

I had never been the type to believe in fate. But the letter in front of me, which had no return address and no clear explanation, seemed to make fun of that incredulity. As I opened it, my fingers shook, and the loud, crackling sound of the crisp paper in my small apartment made me jump. I read the lines quickly, and each one felt heavier than the last as it sank deeper into my chest.

"Dear Miss Vale,

We are happy to give you a job at Wrenford Holdings right away. Please find the information inside.

Wrenford Holdings. The name my dad spoke in passing, just before he died. A name that is hard to understand. I could still hear his voice, which sounded strained and full of something I couldn't quite put my finger on. He said it in the same breath as "They don't forget, Seraphina." You shouldn't believe them.

I looked at the article and felt a lump in my throat. Was this a mean joke? It was like my father's words were echoing in my head, as if he had been getting me ready for this moment. The loss of him and the mystery of his death had already taken so much from me. It seemed like this letter was another thread drawing me into a web I had no business being in.

I held the letter up to my face and breathed in the subtle smell of ink and quality paper. Then I saw it. The signature at the bottom, in ink that looked a little too planned, said: Evander Wrenford.

My heart skipped a beat. This name. My dad talked about it in his last days, but I never understood why. Evander Wrenford. The name that seemed so important and scary, but I had never been told why.

And now it was calling me.

I leaned against the table, and the fragrance of coffee from the morning still hung in the air. I could still hear my mother's shattered tears in my mind, from the days when she could still recall my name. Her mind had been going downhill for months following my father's death, which was never completely addressed. Every day, a little more of her went silent and into a world I couldn't understand. I hadn't talked to her in hours, maybe days, but the thought of her face, which was always far away, tormented me.

I closed my eyes and saw her blankly staring out the window. She hadn't told me anything, not even about the family's money problems or what really happened when my father fell. But I knew in my heart that he wasn't the man everyone thought he was. He had been keeping something from her. A deal gone wrong, a betrayal-something that had taken everything.

The phone's loud ring broke the silence all of a sudden, cutting into my thoughts like a dagger. I picked it up on the third ring, my voice hoarse.

"Seraphina Vale?"

I took a deep breath and realized it was the chilly, robotic voice of a debt collector. "Yes?"

"We've been trying to get in touch with you about your late payment." The words repeated in my thoughts, and they felt heavy in my gut. "We need payment right away, or there will be legal action."

My chest felt tight, and my eyes filled with anger. What other option did I have? My father had given me nothing-no money, no insurance, or anything else. We were in a lot of debt, and it was killing us.

"Fine," I muttered between gritted teeth, my voice wavering. "I'll get the money."

The connection went dead, and I felt like my whole world had changed. The job offer: it was no longer a decision. That was the only way to live.

I looked at the open suitcase on my bed, which was empty and mocking me. It seemed like packing my stuff would be difficult, but I couldn't stay in this small apartment any longer. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the draft from the broken window made me feel like I was suffocating.

I folded the letter from Wrenford Holdings and put it in my bag. I didn't know what would happen when I got there, but it felt like a lifeline, even if it took me right into the storm's center. A storm I wasn't ready for.

I took the picture frame off the nightstand. The image of my dad. His smile was the last thing I saw of him, and it brought back memories of the man I used to know. The man I could never really get to know. He was gone, and all I had were pieces of a past that didn't make sense. His absence weighed heavily on me, and his shadow still haunted the corners of my flat.

I stood there for a time, looking at the photo. Would I ever get the answers I needed? Could I find out what really happened to him, or was I just getting deeper into a trap?

My mom's voice was muffled as it came from the living room. She was saying things that didn't make sense, and it was always a stream of confusion. I didn't have time to soothe her just now. After my father died, I gave up my own life to care for her, but the truth was that I had nothing left. No more help. No more hope.

I put my father's picture in my bag and shut the door behind me without looking back at the flat. The air was colder than I thought it would be when I stepped into the corridor, and my heart raced. It hit me like a blow in the gut that it was all over.

As I turned to go down the stairs, I heard my mother's voice coming from the apartment door behind me. It was hard to hear what she said: "The Wrenfords... Seraphina, they will take everything. "Don't believe them."

I stopped moving.

I could still hear her warning, even if it was strained and hard to understand. She couldn't even recall her own name, but nonetheless her last words to me were about them. The Wrenfords. What? What connected their deaths to my father's, and how much of my existence had been a lie?

I didn't know what to say. But I knew one thing: I couldn't go back now. The Wrenfords were waiting for me. And I had to confront them, whether I was ready or not.

The tall glass walls of Wrenford Holdings loomed over me as I stood at the door, and the chilly wind stung my face. The building was sleek and big, and it felt like a symbol of power. Even though it was cold, my palms were sweaty. It was so clean and separate from the dirty, worn-out parts of my life that I had never seen anything like it before. I didn't know if I should be in awe or scared.

The security guy looked me over quickly, scarcely recognizing my presence, and I walked past him into the lobby. The marble floors were so shiny that I could nearly see my own reflection. The subtle murmur of people talking and the quiet clicking of shoes on the floor were all so strange. It smelled like expensive cologne, paper, and ambition.

"Seraphina Vale?" A voice, smooth and practiced, emerged from behind. I turned around and saw a tall woman in a neatly pressed suit with her blonde hair tucked back securely. She looked like someone who was born into power and didn't have to work hard to keep it. I nodded, not sure if I should say hello or just nod nicely.

She guided me through the maze of glass and chrome, and the sound of her heels clicking matched the beat of my racing heart. "This way," she said, and we got on the elevator. The doors closed with a quiet whoosh.

I stood still and stared at the reflection in the metal doors. I appeared little and unimportant. Nobody here knew who I was. No one here cared about the weight I was carrying or the things I was about to find out. They saw me as just another pawn. A different name.

But as the elevator went up, the air changed. I could feel people looking at me.

I looked over at the far corner of the foyer, where a man was standing. He was wearing a fitted suit, and his posture was stiff and calculated. When our eyes met across the room, they were dark. He stayed still. He didn't move. But I knew he was watching me and waiting deep down.

I turned around, my heart racing. He was gone when I looked again.

The elevator doors opened with a quiet chime, and I was led into the heart of Wrenford Holdings. My new office was bare, simple, and tidy. Nothing is out of place, and everything is in its place. It was empty, yet it had a quiet kind of force. It seemed like I wasn't supposed to be here.

When I put my belongings on the polished desk, my eyes were drawn to a file that was neatly positioned in the corner, almost as if someone had put it there for me to find. It wasn't mine. There were no directions. There was no word of greeting. Just a file.

I opened it carefully, and the sound of paper rustling filled the room. A picture was the first thing I saw. My father's smile was wide and brilliant in this picture, which was very different from how I remembered him in his last days. But the other person next to him made my heart race. Evander Wrenford. The man whose name plagued my father's last words.

I looked at the picture again and then turned the page. More papers. Everything, from transactions to signatures, was written in neat, clear handwriting. But the last thing that drew my eye was a short, handwritten remark at the bottom of the last page.

"Don't trust anyone."

The way my father wrote. His accurate, repeating script.

I froze, feeling like the world was tilting beneath me. This came as a surprise to me. I didn't see this coming at all. My fingers hovered on the note. What had my dad been doing? What did he know about Wrenford Holdings? And why did he leave this for me to uncover in a file that wasn't meant for me?

I heard a click behind me and turned around, my heart racing.

The woman who had showed me to my office was there, and I couldn't read her face.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

I forced myself to grin as I swallowed. "Yes." "Just getting used to it."

She looked at the file for a second, but didn't say anything.