The lullaby wouldn't leave her head.
Veronica sat on the window ledge of Amy's childhood bedroom, legs curled beneath her, as the afternoon sun scattered through the gauzy white curtains. Outside, the Lin estate's gardens bloomed in soft pastels, but her focus wasn't on the flowers. It was on the threadbare baby blanket clutched in her lap.
Faded pink. Soft as clouds. Worn from too many washes and yet—it smelled like something forgotten.
Dust. Old secrets. And something strangely familiar.
The lullaby she'd heard in that corrupted recording days ago kept playing over and over in her head. Not just a melody—but a warning, maybe a key.
Veronica traced her fingers along the hem, noting how the stitches curved in an odd pattern—one that didn't quite match the rest of the quilt's design. It wasn't decoration.
It was code.
"Why would Amy's blanket have a cipher?" she murmured under her breath.
She slipped off the ledge, spreading the blanket on the floor. Using her phone's flashlight and a magnifier, she examined each letter sewn into the corner. At first, they looked like decorative initials.
Then her eyes narrowed.
In each swirl, each stitched flower, were intentional breaks—tiny diagonal ticks and hidden dots.
Morse.
Veronica's breath hitched.
She rushed to her desk, dragging out an old notebook. Her fingers worked fast as she decoded the stitched message.
.-.. .. ..- ... .-. . .-..
L I U S R E L
Her brows furrowed. It wasn't a full sentence—just a jumble. No, not a jumble—a clue.
She rearranged the letters. The name "Lu Sirel" emerged.
"That… doesn't make sense," she whispered.
She tried again. "Seril Lu." No. Still off.
Then, finally, one word locked into place.
"Surreal."
And the rest?
Her breath caught.
"Lies Rule."
She stared at the decoded phrase in silence.
Surreal. Lies rule.
A phrase Amy must've embedded before even she knew what it meant. Or… did she know all along?
"Veronica?" A quiet knock came at the door.
She jolted, flipping the blanket over and slipping the notebook under her seat.
Lucas stood at the threshold, his face the same unreadable mask he always wore—but something in his eyes had shifted. There was tension behind the calm. A glint of worry.
"Thought I'd check on you," he said, stepping inside before she could answer.
Veronica raised an eyebrow. "You don't knock on my bedroom door unless something's burning."
"It's not burning," he said smoothly. "Not yet."
He stood a few feet from her, scanning the room with that hyper-alert gaze of his. "You've been locked up here for hours. Iris says you skipped breakfast."
"I had coffee," she replied, crossing her arms.
"You had adrenaline," Lucas corrected. "Not the same thing."
Silence stretched between them, taut as piano wire.
Veronica studied him. "You're deflecting."
Lucas blinked. "From what?"
She took a step forward. "Something's off with you. Ever since I mentioned that recording, you've been quieter than usual. Calculating. Like you're anticipating a move I haven't made yet."
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
"You're hiding something, Lucas."
"I'm protecting something," he said tightly.
Her lips parted, stunned by his choice of words.
For a second, the walls around her heart trembled.
"You think I need protecting?"
"Always," he said simply.
His voice was calm, but beneath it ran a storm.
Veronica opened her mouth, but her phone buzzed sharply on the desk.
Unknown number.
She glanced at Lucas, then picked up the call. A woman's voice answered—soft, polished.
"Miss Lin. I represent the Everlight Trust—the one established in your mother's name."
Veronica stiffened. "You mean Amy's mother. She passed when Amy was what, nine?"
"Correct. But you may not be aware: she left behind a private bequest. Something not listed in the public will."
Veronica's hand tightened around the phone. "What sort of bequest?"
"Not an asset. A memory capsule."
Her breath hitched.
"We've kept it sealed per her instructions, and it can only be opened now—because you've reached eighteen."
"Why wasn't this mentioned before?"
The woman paused. "We were told Amy Lin wouldn't survive past seventeen."
Veronica's spine stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"We were given strict directives. Open the capsule only if Amy Lin lived to adulthood. Otherwise, it was to be destroyed."
Lucas stepped closer, reading the tension on her face. She hung up the call without another word.
"I need to go," she said.
"I'm coming with you."
"I don't need—"
"You'll want me there," he said, eyes dark and unreadable.
An Hour Later — Everlight Memorial Hall
The capsule was a simple black box. Velvet-lined. Not locked, but sealed with wax.
Veronica sat alone in the private room, hands trembling as she cracked the seal. Inside was a single flash drive and a note in soft, looping handwriting.
My darling star,
If you're reading this, it means you survived the shadows.
But surviving isn't living. I couldn't protect you from them, but I could leave you the truth.
They wanted to raise a doll. I gave them a daughter instead.
Love always,
—Mother.
Her throat closed. Tears burned behind her eyes.
She inserted the flash drive into the provided laptop. A video began.
A woman appeared onscreen—regal, elegant. Hair pinned back, voice low and even.
"I know what they told you about me, Amy," the woman said. "But it's time you knew what I saw."
She described secret meetings. Manipulations. A quiet war between two factions of the elite. Amy's adoption into the Lin family as part of a deal.
"You were chosen, not born into that name," she said gently. "But you were always mine."
Veronica sat frozen.
Adopted?
The words swirled in her mind, mixing with the encoded blanket message and the torn photograph she'd hidden days ago.
Lucas watched her from across the room, silent but seething inside. She could feel it.
"I knew something was wrong," she whispered.
"You always do," he replied.
She turned to him, eyes raw. "Did you know she wasn't their real daughter?"
Lucas didn't answer right away. Then—softly—he nodded once.
"You bastard," she breathed. "You knew all along and said nothing."
"I knew Amy Lin wasn't what she seemed. But I didn't know it would be you."
Veronica stood slowly. "Then who was she, Lucas? Who was the real Amy Lin?"
He looked her dead in the eye.
"I think you're about to find out."