"I can't go with you, Isabella," Vivian said, moving away from the black car. Rain soaked through her thin jacket, but she hardly noticed. Isabella's perfect face showed a flash of anger before smoothing into worry.
"It's pouring. Don't be stubborn." "Last time I trusted you, I lost everything." Vivian clutched her bag tighter. "Why would I start now?" Isabella's green eyes narrowed. "Fine. Have it your way. But rememberI tried to help." The window slid up, and the car pulled away into the New York traffic.
Vivian's phone buzzed with Julian's third message: Where are you? I'm worried. With shaking fingers, she typed: Coming to you now. Don't tell anyone. Julian's room was warm and smelled like coffee. He wrapped a blanket around Vivian's shoulders as she sat on his couch, dripping rainwater onto the hardwood floor.
"You look terrible," he said, giving her a steaming mug. "Thanks." Vivian tried a smile. "Just what every girl wants to hear." Julian sat beside her, his face serious.
"Did something happen with Dr. Hart?" Vivian told him everything the memory exercise, Celia's strange reaction to Michael Hart's name, the call to the lake house, and Isabella's appearance outside. Julian's face clouded. "You can't go to that lake house alone." "I know." Vivian sipped the hot coffee.
"But I need answers, Julian. Real ones. Everyone's playing games with my life." Julian stood and pulled a file from his desk drawer. "That's why I wanted to see you. Look what I found about Margot Vale." Inside was a newspaper article from twenty-eight years ago.
The title read: "LOCAL ATTORNEY RETURNS AFTER MYSTERIOUS NINE-MONTH ABSENCE." Below was a photo of a younger Margot, looking tired but properly composed. The article stated she'd taken "personal leave" but provided no details.
"Nine months," Vivian breathed. "Like a pregnancy." Julian nodded. "And look at the date. It fits..." "My birth month." Vivian's hand went to her scar. "Julian, what if" "I think Margot Vale might be your biological mother," he finished. "And I think your father has known all along." Vivian's mind spun with options.
"If that's true, then I'm not really a DeWitt." "Maybe that's why Alexander could cast you out so easily after Isabella disappeared." Julian's voice was gentle. "Blood ties matter to men like him." Vivian leaned back, suddenly tired. "I need to sleep. I can't think straight anymore." "Take my bed," Julian offered. "I'll stay out here." "No, the couch is fine." Vivian was already lying down, too tired to fight.
"Just wake me in a few hours. I need to be ready for whatever comes next." Julian nodded, covering her with another blanket. "I'll be right here." The lake was perfectly still in the moonlight. Vivian stood on the dock, watching ripples spread from somewhere in the middle. Something was rising from the deep.
"You shouldn't be here," a voice whispered from behind. Vivian turned to see Isabellanot the grown woman she'd become, but the fifteen-year-old girl in the white dress she'd worn that night. "This is my dream," Vivian said.
"I can be wherever I want." Young Isabella smiled sadly. "Is it really your dream? Or is it your mind trying to break free?" The water started to churn more violently. A hand reached up from below the surface. "Help her," Isabella whispered. "Before it's too late." Vivian stepped forward, but the dock seemed to stretch longer with each step. The hand was sinking back beneath the dark water.
"I can't reach her!" Vivian cried. "Not her," Isabella's voice changed, becoming deeper. "Him." Vivian spun around, but Isabella was gone. In her place stood a young boy with red curly hair and familiar green eyes Celia's eyes. "Michael," Vivian gasped. The boy nodded.
"You remember me now?" "You were there that night." Memories flashed through Vivian's mind. "You were with Elias Blackwood." "And Isabella," Michael added. "We were all there.
All part of the plan." "What plan?" The boy stepped closer, his wet clothes dripping onto the dock. "Look at the trees, Vivian. Remember who was watching." Vivian turned toward the dark trees surrounding the lake. A figure stood half-hidden among the pines, watching everything. She squinted, trying to make out the face.
"Who is that?" "You know who." Michael's voice was fading. "The person who really betrayed you." The figure stepped forward just enough for moonlight to catch on sleek black hair and red lips. "Margot?" Vivian whispered in confusion.
"Look again," Michael pushed. "Really look." The figure moved into full view. It was Damien. He stood watching the scene at the dock, his face expressionless as Isabella slipped into a ready boat with Elias and Michael. He did nothing as Vivian fell on the dock, drugged and confused. "He knew," Michael whispered. "He always knew she wasn't dead."
"No." Vivian shook her head. "Damien wouldn't" "The truth is in the boathouse," Michael interrupted. "Hidden where only you would find it." The lake began to freeze over, ice popping beneath Vivian's feet. "Wait! Tell me more!" Michael's form was already disappearing.
"Remember the box with the butterfly. You put your treasures there as a child." The ice cracked. Vivian felt herself falling, falling... - "Vivian! Wake up!" Julian's worried face floated above her. His hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her gently.
"You were screaming," he said. "Something about a butterfly." Vivian sat up, heart beating. Outside, lightning flashed across the New York city.
The clock read 3:17 AM. "I remembered something," she gasped. "Something important." Julian gave her a glass of water. "About Isabella?" "About all of it." Vivian's mind raced with pieces from her dream. "There was a boyCelia's son Michael. He was there that night with Isabella and Elias Blackwood."
"At the lake? When she disappeared?" "Yes." Vivian stood, pacing the room. "And Damien was watching from the trees. He saw everything." Julian's brow wrinkled. "Are you sure this wasn't just a nightmare mixing up what you've learned recently?"
"No, it was a memory." Vivian put her fingers to her temples. "I'm sure of it. And there's something hidden in the dock. A box with a butterfly on it." "Your old treasure box?"
Julian's eyes widened. "I remember that. You used to hide notes and trinkets in it when we were kids." "I need to go to the lake house." Vivian grabbed her still-damp jacket. "Now." Julian caught her arm. "It's the middle of the night, and there's a storm."
"I don't care. This can't wait." "At least let me come with you." Vivian paused, remembering her dream. Who could she really trust? Julian had been her friend for years, but so had Damien. "Okay," she finally said. "But we go straight to the shed. No calling anyone, not even your office." Julian nodded.
"I'll drive." The storm had intensified by the time they turned onto the long road leading to the DeWitt lake house. Wind whipped through the trees, and rain beat against the car windows. "No one's been here in years," Julian said as the abandoned house came into view.
"Are you sure about this?" Vivian looked at the dark, looming structure. "More sure than I've been about anything." They parked near the boathouse, a small building that jutted out over the water. Julian found a flashlight in the glove compartment, and they raced through the rain to the building's door.
The old padlock was rusted but still held. Julian looked around and found a rock, smashing it against the lock until it broke. Inside, the air was musty and cold.
Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling, and old life vests hung on hooks like ghosts. Vivian's flashlight beam cut through the darkness, revealing dusty surfaces and abandoned fishing gear. "Where would your box be?" Julian whispered, though there was no one to hear them. Vivian moved toward the back wall.
"There used to be loose floors here. Isabella and I would hide things from our father." She knelt down, her fingers tracing the old wood until she found an edge that lifted.
Beneath it was a small room and, inside, a metal box with a butterfly painted on its lid. "It's still here," she breathed, pulling it out. The box was rusted around the edges but complete.
Vivian's hands shook as she opened it. Inside was a folded piece of paper, a small key, and a picture. Vivian picked up the picture first. It showed Isabella, Elias Blackwood, and Michael Hart standing together on this very dock. They were smiling, arms around each other.
Written on the back in Isabella's handwriting: "Plan B Summer 2014." "Three months before she disappeared," Julian murmured, looking over Vivian's shoulder.
Vivian opened the folded paper. It was a letter, written to her in Isabella's elegant script: Vivian, If you're reading this, something has gone wrong. The plan was simple: I disappear, start a new life away from Father's shadow and Elias's control. Michael and I were going to leave together. But Elias found out. He's scary, Viv. More dangerous than you know.
Don't trust Father. Don't trust Margot. And most of all, don't trust Damien. He's been working for Father all along. Look for the tree with our names. Dig beneath it. If I don't make it, remember it wasn't your fault. Isabella Vivian's hands shook so badly she almost dropped the letter.
"She was planning to run awaywith Michael Hart." A noise outside made them both freeze. Footsteps on the dock. Julian quickly turned off the flashlight. "Someone's here." Through the dirty window, a beam of light swept across the lake. Someone was coming toward the dock.
"We need to go," Julian whispered. "Now." But Vivian stood frozen, looking at the small key that had fallen from the box. Something about it seemed familiar not from childhood, but recently. It looked exactly like the key she'd seen on Celia Hart's desk this afternoon. "Wait," she whispered, pocketing both the key and the paper.
"There's more to find."The footsteps grew closer. A shadow passed in front of the door. "Vivian?" A familiar voice called out. "I know you're in there." It was Damien. Julian pulled Vivian toward the back exit. "We can circle around to the car."
As they slipped out the rear door into the stormy night, Vivian looked back just in time to see another figure emerge from the trees behind Damien. A figure with blonde hair, illuminated quickly by lightning. Isabella had found them too.