Chapter 5 The Last Inheritance

Morning broke gray and breathless. The air in Thornwick Hall hung heavy, like it was waiting for something to fall or for someone to speak the truth aloud for the first time in decades.

Mira stood in the ruined west wing, her hand pressed to the frame of the open trapdoor. Beneath her, the cellar lay still. The records. The ledgers. Her brother's hidden pouch of letters. It was all there now exposed like bone beneath ash.

Behind her, Leo approached. He looked more tired than she'd ever seen him, but not defeated.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded once.

In the drawing room, Gregor Thornwick or the man who had claimed to be him stood before the hearth, a decanter of brandy untouched in his hand. He turned slowly when they entered.

"I was wondering when this would come," he said.

"You're not Gregor," Mira said. "You're Aster."

There was no denial. Only silence.

"I was Aster," he said after a long moment. "Once. A long time ago. But they killed him, don't you see? They buried him under the family name. Under lies. I didn't want to inherit this place. I ran. I built another life. But when Elias died, the solicitors searched the line. And someone" he looked at Leo, "made sure they found me."

"You could've told the truth," Leo said coldly.

"I tried," Aster said. "Years ago. They locked me in my own room. Called me mad. Told the staff I'd died of fever. I survived only because my nursemaid helped me escape. But I learned then: truth doesn't matter when the wrong people hold the pen."

Mira stepped closer. "Then why come back now?"

Aster looked away. "Because your brother found me."

That froze the room.

"What?" she whispered.

"Tomas," Aster said, "recognized me. I don't know how. Maybe something in the records. Maybe a portrait. He approached me weeks before the fire. Told me who he thought I was. I denied it, at first. But he wouldn't stop."

Leo clenched his jaw. "And then what happened?"

Aster looked down at the fire. "I told him everything. He said the truth needed to be known. That the Thornwick name shouldn't pass to liars. He said... the house needed to burn."

Mira's chest tightened. "He started the fire?"

"No. He planned to leak the documents. But someone else started the fire first." Aster turned toward her. "I believe Elias found out. Tomas had the cellar keys. I think Elias confronted him. Something went wrong."

"And they both died," she said, her voice thin.

Aster nodded. "Along with Lady Ansel. The house burned, and I disappeared again. Until the name dragged me back."

Silence held for a long moment. Then Leo said, "We can expose it all. The letters. The cellar. The false identity. We can give them the real story."

"And destroy the Thornwick name?" Aster asked. "Erase what's left of this place forever?"

Leo's voice was like steel. "It should be erased."

Mira stepped between them, her heart torn.

"There's another option," she said. "Tell the truth but on our terms. Publicly acknowledge what was done, without dragging innocent people through the coals. Let the estate become a memorial. Not a crown."

Leo looked at her. "That protects the legacy."

"No," she said. "It ends it. But without creating more wreckage."

Aster studied her, and for the first time, there was something like peace in his eyes.

"I'll sign it all away," he said. "The inheritance. The name. The titles. Let it go quiet. Let it end."

Weeks later, an announcement appeared in the Velbridge Chronicle:

Thornwick Hall, once seat of the noble Thornwick line, will be repurposed as a historical foundation and memorial.

The new heir has chosen not to assume title or fortune, and no further claimants will be pursued.

The estate will remain in trust to preserve records of injustice done beneath its roof, with full access granted to historical inquiry and public education.

No name was listed.

No heirs were claimed.

Just silence. And closure.

On a cold afternoon, Mira and Leo stood at the edge of the estate grounds. The fog had finally lifted. For the first time in years, the house looked less like a grave and more like a lesson carved in stone.

"It's over," Leo said.

Mira shook her head. "It's begun."

He looked at her. "What will you do now?"

"I'll stay," she said. "Help archive everything. Tell the stories the Thornwicks buried."

Leo nodded. "Then I'll stay too."

She smiled at him.

"I'm tired of running," he added.

They stood together in the silence, watching the wind ripple through the tall grass. Not as enemies. Not as ghosts. But as two people who had finally made peace with the ruins behind them.

And with the names they carried