Chapter 5 A Whisper from the Past

The letter was old.

Tucked deep inside a leather-bound ledger in her father's private library, it smelled faintly of cedar and time. Isabella found it by accident-or maybe fate-while searching for the ledger Damien mentioned: Indigo.

It had taken her nearly two hours to convince the estate manager to give her access to the locked storage behind the wine cellar. Celeste had claimed that the room held nothing but outdated documents and old accounting ledgers. But Isabella had always known better.

Her father never left anything he wanted found easily.

And sure enough, behind a false panel, tucked beneath the third drawer in the lowest cabinet, was a stack of old records... and one sealed envelope marked in her father's familiar script.

To Isabella – Only if I'm gone.

Her heart paused.

The envelope was thick, hand-folded, sealed with wax-the old-fashioned kind her father used for private communications. She held it in her hands for a long time before daring to break the seal.

The paper trembled slightly in her grasp.

Or maybe that was her.

She unfolded the letter and began to read.

---

> My dearest Isabella,

If you are reading this, then I'm no longer beside you-and for that, I am sorry. More than you will ever know.

I fear that what I've built... may be stolen.

There are things you don't know about Vaughn Group. About the people I trusted. I cannot say all in writing-it is no longer safe. But I ask you this: trust your instincts. They've always been sharper than mine.

Do not let the mask of loyalty blind you. Even those closest... even those who share your blood... may wear false faces.

I've hidden a secondary ledger. It's marked 'Indigo.' Find it. Follow the entries. And whatever happens, do not sign anything Celeste gives you-not without reading every line.

I tried to protect you both. But I fear one of you has already chosen power over truth.

Be careful, my girl.

And forgive me for not staying long enough to tell you this in person.

-Dad

---

Isabella lowered the letter slowly, her fingers trembling. The words hit her like a slow, rolling wave-first confusion, then clarity, then the bitter sting of betrayal.

Even now, her father had been afraid.

Even now, he hadn't named names-just warned her.

Left her in the middle of a chessboard with no map.

"Even those who share your blood..."

She didn't need the rest of the sentence to know exactly who he meant.

Celeste.

Her mind reeled. What had her sister signed? What documents had been buried? What agreements had been made in the aftermath of their father's death?

And what exactly was in that Indigo ledger?

A creak sounded behind her.

She froze.

Was someone watching?

She slipped the letter back into its envelope, tucked it into the lining of her coat, and closed the cabinet carefully. She stepped out of the storage room and locked it behind her, the old key scraping in the lock.

When she turned the corner of the hallway, Damien was waiting, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

"You disappeared," he said.

"I found something," she replied, keeping her voice low.

His eyes sharpened. "What?"

She handed him the envelope. "Read it. But not here."

He tucked it into his coat without a word.

They walked back up to the main floor, their footsteps quiet against the polished marble.

"You think she's involved?" Damien asked softly, once they were alone.

Isabella didn't answer right away. She looked up at the portrait hanging over the stairs-her father, smiling faintly in oil paint, his hand on Celeste's shoulder, a younger Isabella barely visible in the corner of the canvas.

"I don't think," she said. "I know."

Damien studied her. "Then what do you need me to do?"

She looked at him, eyes sharp with purpose.

"Help me find the Indigo ledger. And then-"

She hesitated. "Then help me bury the person who buried the truth."