I tore the wax seal on the back of the envelope.

My fingers shook slightly, but I forced them to remain steady.

Inside was a single sheet of heavy parchment, folded in three.

I unfolded it and recognized the dark blue ink immediately.

“Read it, Vivian,” Matteo whispered, his hands resting on his hips.

Beatrice took a step forward, her pearls clicking against her collarbone.

“This is an absurd theatrical display,” Beatrice said, her voice sharp as glass.

“Vivian, put that paper down and stop this nonsense immediately.”

I ignored her and looked down at my mother’s handwriting.

I began to read the words aloud, my voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room.

“To my dearest Vivian,” I read.

“If you are reading this, the worst of my fears has come to pass.”

The room went completely silent, save for the steady patter of rain outside.

“The Ashford family is not what they appear to be,” I continued, my eyes scanning the elegant script.

“Months before my diagnosis, Harrison’s father approached me for a private loan to cover their shipping losses.”