The storm finally broke.
It began with a message.
Annalise was in her room at the mansion, still in her robe from the banquet the night before, when her phone buzzed with a notification.
No name. Just a number.
Just a photo.
Her mother — Evelyn — standing on a cracked sidewalk, a police car in the background, bloodstains on her coat.
Below it:
"Your crown is lovely. Shame your mother wore red for the wrong reasons."
—C.L.
Annalise's stomach twisted violently. She stared at the image. She didn't even realize she'd screamed until Delphine came running in.
"What happened?"
Annalise held up the phone with a shaking hand. "Tell me it's fake."
Delphine's expression faltered. Just for a second. And that second was enough.
"You knew," Annalise whispered. Her voice cracked. "You knew."
Delphine's Study – One Hour Later
The fire in the hearth crackled, but Annalise felt cold.
Delphine sat across from her, finally stripped of poise, eyes rimmed red. "You deserve the truth. All of it."
And she told her.
Evelyn Grace had been born into poverty. Her family lived in a crumbling part of Easton. Her father drank. Her older brother got involved in dangerous deals. Then, one night — it went too far.
A man was killed. A robbery staged. And Evelyn had been there. A silent witness. Seventeen. Terrified.
She told Smith. He protected her.
"He buried the truth to give her a new life," Delphine whispered. "To give you a future."
Annalise was silent. But her breathing grew uneven.
"So the world thinks I'm perfect," she whispered. "An heir. A leader. But I'm the daughter of a witness in a murder. The product of a coverup."
"No," Delphine said sharply. "You are not your mother's past. You are your father's strength. And you are mine."
But Annalise wasn't hearing her anymore. The walls were closing in.
Her heart raced. Her chest constricted.
"I— I can't— breathe—" she gasped. Her hands flew to her chest. "I—can't—"
"Annalise!" Delphine cried, rushing forward as she collapsed to the floor.
Leamington Private Hospital – Two Hours Later
The beeping of the machines was the only sound Han heard when he entered the room.
"She's stable," the nurse said quietly. "But she suffered a severe panic attack. Her blood pressure spiked dangerously."
He stepped in.
Delphine stood beside the bed, one hand resting on Annalise's. Her face was stoic — barely holding it together.
Han took the other side. He reached down, wrapping his fingers around Annalise's cold hand.
"You're okay," he whispered. "You're here. You're safe."
She stirred.
When her eyes opened, they were bloodshot and glassy. But the second they locked onto Han's face — something shattered.
She began to cry. No sound. Just silent, body-shaking sobs.
Han sat beside her, not saying a word. He didn't need to.
Elsewhere – Carlos's Office
Carlos took a long sip of whiskey and stared out his window at the city skyline. His phone buzzed again — more news updates.
"LEAMINGTON LEGACY IN QUESTION?"
"SHOCKING CONNECTION TO EASTON MURDER CASE"
"WHO WAS EVELYN GRACE REALLY?"
Carlos smiled.