The pendent
"I know, my Lord," Amelia began, her voice trembling ever so slightly, "but in this letter… Lady Isabelle has written that she fabricated that incident. She used it as an excuse to feign illness—so she could abort the child."
"Shut up!!" the Duke roared, his voice shaking the room as he hurled the desk in front of him to the side. It crashed to the ground with a loud, echoing bang. Amelia shuddered at the sound, but her words didn't stop.
"My Lord, whatever this lady has said—it's the truth, and the heavens know it. You can read the letter yourself. It's in the Duchess's own handwriting," she said firmly.
The Duke snatched the letter from her trembling fingers. As his eyes skimmed its contents, his hands began to shake. The words on the page blurred as his emotions overwhelmed him. He could no longer hold back his tears.
"According to the letter… she fabricated the entire illness to cover her intent—to end the pregnancy. But because you had the physicians watch over her so closely, she couldn't go through with it. So she decided to wait. To give birth to the child and leave immediately after, ensuring that she would walk away with nothing—nothing that tied her to you."
"My Lord, she sent this letter and the pendent to me," Amelia continued with a show of solemnity, "asking me to keep our conversation at the tea gathering a secret. But I couldn't. Even though I was her friend… I couldn't keep this from you. I can't stand by and watch you torment yourself like this. You are the future of our estate. You deserve to know."
She had said everything she needed to say. The room fell quiet.
The Duke didn't speak. He stood frozen, unsure of what to do—unsure of what to believe. He remembered how dear that locket had been to Isabelle. She'd never let anyone touch it. She always said it was given to her by her father and carried deep meaning. For her to send it to Amelia... It was unthinkable. He didn't want to believe it.
"My Lord," Amelia said softly, taking a step closer. "My own husband left me for another woman. I know what it feels like when someone you love betrays you. The pain... it doesn't fade easily. But this—this is the truth. And the sooner you accept it, the less it will destroy you."
His fists clenched. His jaw tightened. The rage flared in his eyes again as he turned toward her.
"If I am not worthy of her, then so be it!" he said through gritted teeth. "Lady… your husband left you, and I have been left behind as well. We both have children to look after. I will marry you—for their sake."
A decision made in anger. Or perhaps a desperate decision made in the faint hope that somewhere, Isabelle might hear of it. That she would return. That her pride would shatter. But even on the day of his wedding, she never came. Not even after.
---
I stared at him, stunned. Everything Amelia had said fit together perfectly—too perfectly. To anyone else, it would sound logical. Truthful.
But I knew her true nature.
I knew how skilled she was at deception. How effortlessly she wore masks—pretending to be gentle, honest, and sincere in front of my father. To him, it all made sense. She had never once slipped up in front of him, never once given him a reason to doubt her.
But I had seen the real Amelia. I knew the lengths she would go to in order to achieve her twisted goals.
To me, it all felt like a carefully crafted lie. One powerful enough to keep my parents apart all these years.
But I couldn't just tell Father. Not without proof. Not yet.
Still, even if I never found proof—I would find my mother. I would find out what truly happened. She had entrusted Sasha to raise me. She had told her I was her "precious daughter."
A woman like that—a woman so dignified, graceful, and noble—could never have done the things Amelia claimed. She could never have even thought about killing me...her child.
I looked at my father. His eyes were red. His face was drawn and empty. He looked like a man broken by life—by love.
And I made myself a silent vow.
I will uncover the truth, Father. The way my heart aches for it... perhaps this is the reason I'm here. Perhaps this is my purpose.
"Father," I said gently, "can I see that pendent?"
He looked up at me slowly, the grief still etched into his eyes. After a long pause, he gave a small nod.
He reached beneath his collar, his hand trembling slightly. Hidden beneath his clothes, he pulled it out—the pendent.
Maybe he kept it close because it was the only part of her he had left. Maybe it made him feel closer to the woman he once loved and still loves.
He stared at it silently for a moment. Then he looked at me.
"It was very dear to your mother," he said, his voice quiet and distant. "I've always kept it with me… hoping to feel her presence through it. Sometimes… sometimes I did. It gave me strength to carry on."
He opened his hand and held it out to me. "But now, I think you need it more than I do. Take it, Isla. It's yours."
I parted my lips to protest, but he shook his head firmly. He placed the locket in my palm.
But the moment it touched my skin—
Pain.
Searing, unbearable pain shot through my entire body. A scream ripped from my throat. My knees buckled. It felt like something had reached inside me and was pulling out my very soul.
I tried to focus—to understand what was happening—but my vision blurred. My breath caught. My body trembled.
I saw my father's face—panic-stricken—his hands trying to steady me. His voice calling out my name, but it felt so far away.
I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue was too heavy. My words stuck in my throat like stones. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
The door burst open. Sasha must've come running at the sound of my scream. I wanted to turn to her—to call for help—but my body refused.
Then—nothing.
Darkness. A void. No sound. No light. No feeling.