Chapter 2

They didn't even know me.

Never met me.

Just those vile words, those twisted stories, and they built their judgment on my bones.

They probably didn't care. Their self-proclaimed justice was a dance on my grave.

Jack Riley, back in the dusty foyer, ran a gloved hand over a section of the stained wall, his brow furrowed.

He pulled out a small, brass compass. The needle spun erratically.

"Whoa," he breathed. "Definitely some weird energy in here."

A sudden gust of wind slammed through a broken windowpane down the hall.

The tattered remains of a lace curtain, caked with grime, billowed like a forgotten shroud.

Dave, startled, stumbled back, knocking something off a rickety side table.

Clatter.

A slim, leather-bound journal, or perhaps a very old tablet case, landed on the dusty floorboards.

Jack picked it up, wiping off a thick layer of grime. He opened it.

It was an old tablet, surprisingly still holding a sliver of charge. A journaling app was open.

He read the first entry aloud, his voice resonating in the dead quiet of the house.

"October 12th, 2016.

He said he was my brother, Noah. He came to the group home. He said he was sorry. Sorry they lost me, that I was taken by mistake all those years ago.

I'm so happy. I have a brother. A family."

Jack paused, looking at his camera. "This is... personal."

The next entry.

"October 15th, 2016.

Noah brought me to the Grayson mansion. Mom and Dad... Mr. and Mrs. Grayson... they were polite. Distant. Noah said that's just how they are, but they were happy to have me.

I believe him. He's the first person in my eighteen years who's ever really cared about me. He calls me his 'little shadow' because I follow him everywhere. But he always smiles when he says it. He takes me places.

School is hard. Some kids call me 'hick' or 'orphan Annie.' Noah got into a fight for me. Mom and Dad were angry with him. I told them it was my fault. They sent me to my room without dinner. Noah snuck me a sandwich.

'You don't have to do that, Em,' he said. 'They wouldn't really punish me.'

'And you don't have to fight my battles.'

'Yes, I do. That's what big brothers are for.'

He smiled. I nodded. It's good to have a brother. I'm not alone anymore.

Noah is the best person in the world."

Jack lowered the tablet, his expression unreadable. He signaled Dave to get a close-up of the screen.

A wave of unexpected sorrow washed over me.

Back then, I was Noah's cherished little sister. Not the monster they all painted me to be.

Back then, I thought my life had finally turned a corner. No more fighting for scraps, for a kind word.

In his penthouse, Noah Grayson stared at the screen, his face pale. The cigarette had burned down to his fingers. He didn't seem to notice.

He remembered that day. Picking me up. The fragile hope in my eyes.

A knot tightened in his chest. How had his bright, hopeful sister turned into... this?

Sophia's hand tightened on his arm, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

"Oh, Noah," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "It's all my fault. If it weren't for me, Emily... she wouldn't have... Your bond was so strong. I ruined everything. I killed her, Noah. It's my fault."

Noah's face hardened instantly. The flicker of remembered warmth vanished, replaced by a chilling resentment.

He pulled Sophia into a protective embrace.

"Sophia, no. Don't say that. It's not your fault." His voice was rough. "If it weren't for Emily, you wouldn't have been hurt. We wouldn't have lost our baby."

His fists clenched, veins standing out on his temples. The pain in his hand from the broken glass was a dull throb, a reminder.

He kissed Sophia's forehead. "She hurt our child, our future. She doesn't deserve to be my sister."

Mr. and Mrs. Grayson, who had never shown me much affection anyway, now clucked sympathetically around Sophia, murmuring soothing words.

"There, there, dear Sophia."

"She was always a troubled girl."