“Why?” Nathan asked, his voice shaking.

“Because she was his only biological child,” Julian said. “You were adopted, Nathan.”

The cellar seemed to spin around me.

“Eleanor couldn’t have children,” Julian continued. “She hid the adoption to protect the Carter name, and she buried the existence of the real heir.”

There was a sharp click, and the line went dead.

We stood in the damp cellar, the silence pressing down on us.

Nathan slowly lowered the phone.

He looked at the papers on the crate, then at me.

“Adopted,” he whispered.

I reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched.

It was not out of anger, but from sheer shock.

“Nathan, we don’t know if this is true,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Julian Vance wouldn’t lie about this,” he said, his eyes hardening.

“And Arthur wouldn’t go into hiding for a rumor.”

He grabbed the bundle of papers and stuffed them under his coat.

“We need to leave this basement,” he said. “Now.”

We hurried up the narrow wooden stairs, our boots clicking on the stone.