From Ocean's Grave To Queen

nor

ered Blake' s excited whispers, his hand resting on my flat stomach, dreaming of a future that would

ven. "Congratulations," I managed, the word a bitter taste on my tongue. I pushe

sp escaping her lips. "Oh! My head..." she clutche

landed on me. "What did you do to her, Eleanor?" he roared, rushing to Hayleigh's side, sc

sper, but he wasn't listening. His world, his gaze,

ladies' lounge. Their faces were familiar from countless magazine covers – Hanson and Eleni Frye, the legendary te

leni Frye asked, her voic

small, desperate sob. "Mom! Dad!"

nd the room intensified, shifting from pity for Hayleigh to outra

was a setup. A carefu

icker of something unreadable in her gaze. Hanson Frye, equally astute, follow

gly gentle. "But you have a remarkably familiar aura. And..

y hidden by my watch, it was something only my adoptive pa

, her voice trembling sligh

The exact age my PI mentione

m, Dad, what are you talking about? She's... she's dangerous!"

gh, realizing her carefully constructed facade was crumbling, "fainted" d

distant. After everything, this new truth was just another

it. I was their daughter, lost to them decades ago. They wanted to meet, to explain, to welc

It represented freedom, he said, and our dreams. It was still in the old apartment, the one he had renovated,

building stood dark and silent, a tomb of memories. The smart lock, a system Blake and I had instal

pen the door. Now," I texted Blake. No pleasantries. No explan

e a mask of suspicion. "What do you want, Eleanor?" she spat, clutching her stomach protectively. "Are

s. And it certainly isn't mine anymore. I'm here for something I left behind. Something that actually b