Ella stood frozen in the doorway, her hand still gripping the frame, staring at the woman who had haunted her nightmares for years. Cleopatra. Her sister. The demon she'd spent an entire lifetime trying to outrun, to forget, to erase from her own existence.
"Why the fuck was she here?"
The question burned through Ella's mind like acid. How did she even know where Ella lived? This wasn't public information. Ella had been careful about keeping her address private. Which meant someone had given it to her.
Kyle.
The thought hit her like ice water. If Cleopatra knew where she lived, it was because of Kyle. But the more she thought about it the more absurd if seemed, she scoffed at this thought and assumed it was probably since when she left the mansion after confirming she was in the will.
Ella didn't want to think the worst. She made a decision—brush past her. Don't engage. Get to rehearsal, deal with this later.
