Vivian snapped.
"That's superstition."
Preston looked at her.
"You know better."
Wren turned to him.
"Tell me everything."
"We can't do it here."
"I don't care."
Preston glanced at the crowd.
"Then come with me."
Wren followed him through a side door.
They entered an old corridor lined with photographs of the Hawthorne family.
Wren stopped when she saw one.
A young woman stood beside Charles Hawthorne.
She had dark hair, bright eyes, and a smile Wren had seen every morning in the mirror.
Wren touched the photograph.
"That's her."
Preston nodded.
"Elena."
Wren felt tears running down her cheeks.
"Why didn't my grandmother show me this?"
"Because she was protecting you."
"From what?"
Preston sighed.
"From us."
He explained that Elena had once been engaged to Charles Hawthorne.
But Vivian had also been part of Charles's life.
According to family history, Elena had left suddenly after accusing the Hawthorne family of hiding financial crimes.
Charles had denied everything.
Then Elena disappeared.
Three months later, she died in a car accident.
At least, that was the official story.
Wren listened carefully.
"Did my mother have a child?"
Preston looked at her.
"Yes."
"Me."
"Yes."
"Why did nobody tell the Hawthornes?"
"Because Elena believed someone inside this family wanted her silenced."
Wren's blood ran cold.
"Who?"
Preston looked toward the corridor.
"I never found out."
The necklace warmed again.
Then it spoke.
"Look beneath the portrait."
Wren stared at the photograph.
"Beneath which portrait?"
"The portrait of Charles."
Preston frowned.
"Why?"
The blue stone flashed.
A small clicking sound came from the wall.
Preston stepped closer.
He pressed the wooden frame.
Nothing happened.
Then Wren touched the necklace against the frame.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a small black envelope.
Preston stared.
"I've searched this hallway for thirty years."
Wren picked up the envelope.
Her name was written on it.
WREN.
She opened it with trembling fingers.
Inside was a single photograph.
It showed Elena holding a baby.
The baby was Wren.
On the back was a handwritten message.
"If you are reading this, they failed to erase us."
Wren looked at Preston.
"Who wrote this?"
He studied the handwriting.
"Elena."
Wren read the next line.
"Trust Marisol. Trust Preston. Do not trust Vivian."
The corridor seemed to tilt.
Wren looked toward the ballroom.
Vivian was standing at the far end.
Watching them.
And beside her stood Delia.
Wren realized something.
The necklace hadn't brought her to the gala by accident.
Someone had wanted her to find the truth.
And someone else had spent twenty-three years making sure she never did.
Marisol was waiting when Wren returned home.
She was sitting at the kitchen table with both hands wrapped around a cup of tea.
She looked older than she had that morning.
Wren placed the necklace on the table.
"Tell me the truth."
Marisol closed her eyes.
"I knew this day would come."
"You knew the necklace could talk?"
"No."
"Then how did you know?"
Marisol looked at her granddaughter.
"Because your mother told me."
Wren sat down.
"Tell me about Elena."
Marisol took a long breath.
"Your mother was brave."
Wren waited.
"She was also stubborn. She believed people could be better than they were. That belief nearly killed her."
"What happened?"
"Elena discovered that Charles Hawthorne's company was hiding money from several charitable foundations."
Wren frowned.
"Money laundering?"
"Something close to it. Funds were being transferred through shell companies."
"Why would my mother investigate?"
"Because Charles trusted her."
Wren stared.
"Was he my father?"
Marisol hesitated.
"No."
The answer surprised Wren.
"Then who was?"
Marisol looked toward the window.
"His name was Daniel Vale."
"Where is he?"
"He died before you were born."
Wren absorbed the information.
"Then why was I connected to the Hawthornes?"
"Because Elena had evidence against them."
Marisol explained that Elena had planned to expose the financial scheme.
But before she could, someone broke into her apartment.
Elena escaped with the necklace and several documents.
She went to Marisol.
"Keep this safe," Elena had said.
Marisol had asked why.
"Because they won't stop."
Two days later, Elena died.
Marisol had never believed the accident was accidental.