Vanessa smashed cake into Lily’s hair on her own birthday.

“Did you find them?” David asked the moment he heard my voice.

I gripped the phone tighter. “How did you know what I was looking for?”

Silence stretched across the line. Then David sighed, heavy and defeated.

“Because she told me. Vanessa. She said she needed Elena’s journals to ‘protect’ us. That if she had them, she could make sure nothing dangerous ever came out. I… I told her where Elena kept them.”

The betrayal felt like a physical blow. I leaned against the wall, barely able to breathe.

“You gave her the location. You told her where to find the evidence.”

“I didn’t know she’d take them!” David’s voice cracked. “She said she’d just read them, see if there was anything dangerous, and put them back. She swore she wouldn’t keep them. I thought… I thought we were on the same side. I thought she loved you.”

“She never loved me,” I said quietly. “She wanted what she could take from me. And you handed her the keys to everything.”

“I’m sorry, Adrian. God, I am so sorry. What do I do?”

“Stay out of this,” I said. “And if she calls you again? You tell me. Immediately. Because if you hide one more thing… I will not forgive you.”

I hung up before he could reply. Maria stood watching me, her face pale.

“She has them,” I said. “Vanessa has Elena’s journals.”

Maria sank onto the edge of the bed.

“Then she has everything. Everything Elena discovered. Every name. Every date. Every piece of evidence.”

“Which means she knows exactly who was stealing from me,” I said. “She knows what really happened the night Elena died. And she’s holding it all—waiting to use it when it hurts us most.”

I walked to the window and looked out at the dark yard. Vanessa didn’t just want Lily. She wanted to destroy every trace of Elena. She wanted to rewrite history. She wanted to stand in court, holding Elena’s own words, and twist them until we looked like the monsters.

“She won’t get away with it,” Maria said, though her voice trembled. “Elena was smart. If she knew someone might find her journals… she would have protected what mattered.”

I turned to her. “What do you mean?”

“Elena made copies,” Maria said, remembering. “She always did. Backups. Duplicates. She said if anything ever happened to the originals… the truth would still exist somewhere else. She kept the copies separate. In a safety deposit box. At the bank downtown.”

Hope flickered, faint but real.

“Did she give you the key?”

“She gave it to Elena’s attorney,” Maria said. “With strict instructions. Only to be opened if something happened to her. Or if someone named Vanessa tried to take control of Lily’s future.”

My breath caught. “She knew.”

“She suspected,” Maria said. “Elena was already wary. She told me once… ‘If anything feels wrong, go to Mr. Henderson. Tell him I sent you.’”