Chapter 1 - The Echo of a Frozen Heart
The silence in the grand dining room was heavy,
thick enough to drown out the storm raging outside.
Andrew stood in the doorway,
his chest rising and falling in shallow,
ragged breaths.
The final note of the lullaby still hung in the air,
soft,
haunting,
and terrifyingly familiar.
His wife had composed that song,
humming it into the dark nursery when the twin boys were infants,
a secret melody shared only within the warmth of their private family.
Yet here stood a woman in a humble maid’s uniform,
her shoulders trembling under the weight of those exact notes.
Victoria pulled on Andrew’s arm,
her expensive blue silk dress rustling sharply in the quiet room.
“Andrew,
look at her,”
Victoria hissed,
her voice trembling with controlled panic.
“She’s an opportunist,
a fraud who somehow spied on your family!
You cannot let a stranger manipulate you like this!”
Andrew did not turn his gaze toward Victoria.
He slowly lifted his hand,
shaking off Victoria’s tight grip with a cold,
decisive motion.
His eyes remained locked on the maid’s face,
tracing every contour beneath the smudges of dust and tears.
The young boys,
Leo and Toby,
clung tighter to the maid’s waist,
their small fingers digging into the faded cotton of her dress.
“She is not a stranger!”
Leo screamed,
turning his tear-stained face toward his father.
“Daddy,
she smelled like lavender,
and she knew the story of the silver bear!
She knew it before we even told her!”
Andrew took a slow,
deliberate step forward.
The marble floor felt cold beneath his expensive leather shoes.
“Lift your head,”
Andrew commanded,
his voice cracking under an ocean of restrained emotion.
The maid kept her head bowed,
her body shaking violently as tears dripped onto the polished floor.
“Please,
Mr. Vance,”
she whispered softly,
her voice raspy and broken.
“I am just a maid hired by the agency three days ago.
I did not mean to cause trouble,
I swear it.”
Andrew knelt beside her,
ignoring the stain of dust that ruined his tailored trousers.
He reached out,
his fingers trembling as he took her thin wrist.
He pushed back the long white sleeve of her uniform,
exposing the pale skin underneath.
There,
stretching across her skin,
was a jagged,
star-shaped burn scar.
It was the identical mark left by the fiery beam that had collapsed three years ago,
the night the manor burned to the ground.
Andrew’s breath hitched in his throat.
“Evelyn?”
he whispered,
a sound so fragile it barely escaped his lips.
The maid pulled her arm back sharply,
her eyes wide with terror and confusion.
“My name is Clara,”
she sobbed,
clutching her wrist to her chest.
“I don’t know who Evelyn is!
Please let me go!”
Victoria stepped between them immediately,
her face pale and her eyes flashing with desperation.
“That is enough!”
Victoria shouted,
calling for the security guards in the hallway.
“She is confusing you,
Andrew!
We are supposed to announce our engagement tonight!
Send this impostor away before she ruins everything!”
Andrew stood up slowly,
his tall frame towering over Victoria.
The anger in his eyes was replaced by something far more dangerous:
a cold,
calculating clarity.
“No one touches her,”
Andrew said,
his voice dropping to a dangerous register.
“Cancel the banquet.
May you like
Lock the gates.
No one leaves this estate tonight.”
