“okay breathe" Nina said to herself as she took a deep breath
It was becoming painfully clear just how much effort had gone into burying the secrets between Adelaide and Nathan. Every thread she tried to pull unraveled into nothing, carefully stitched back to keep her in the dark. But she wasn’t giving up. She couldn’t. Whatever truth was hidden here, she was going to dig it out, no matter how deep it was buried.
Mrs. Whitlock had been explicit: Stay away from Nathan. The words echoed in her mind, sharp and deliberate, like a warning laced with something more sinister. Until today, Nathan’s name had barely been uttered by Adele, as if she had been programmed to erase him from Adelaide’s story. Yet, the conversation with him tonight hinted at a profound impact on Adelaide’s life—one too significant to ignore.
Finding the answers would take time, patience, and cunning. But for now, she needed to regroup. Her mind was buzzing, and her body craved the sanctuary of hot water and solitude.
She pushed back from the dressing table and rose to her feet, the room around her silent except for the faint hum of Adele’s systems. Crossing the room, she made her way to the bathroom. The cool tiles greeted her bare feet as she stepped inside, and she exhaled, ready to let the day’s tension wash away—at least for a moment.
About an hour later, Nina lay sprawled on her bed, dressed in a loose nightgown, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was a whirlwind, but one thought loomed larger than the rest—breakfast tomorrow.
It would be her first official meal with the family, her new parents. After months of being kept behind closed doors, this was her debut as Adelaide in their eyes. The pressure of it all made her stomach churn. What if they noticed something off? What if they picked up on the tiniest crack in her performance? The thought of landing in their bad books now, just as she was close to being fully accepted as their daughter, was unbearable.
She groaned, trying to push away the spiral of anxious thoughts. “It’s just breakfast,” she muttered to herself. “No one’s expecting a grand performance. Maybe we won’t even talk.” But even as she said it, she couldn’t shake the nerves.
Before long, her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Axel. Specifically, the strange events of earlier that night. He had been so considerate, insisting she wait while he went to grab his jacket so she wouldn’t freeze. And yet, somehow, he’d vanished without a word. It was baffling, frustratingly contradictory, and no matter how she tried to make sense of it, she couldn’t.
Then there was Nathan. His words replayed in her mind—how he’d hinted at spending time with Adelaide, as if tonight wasn’t the first instance.
If Adelaide hadn’t liked Axel, why had she agreed to be engaged to him? Why not go for the man she truly loved? And how had she managed to entangle two Graves—cousins, no less—without fear of discovery? Surely Axel must have known something. Was he in denial? Or had he made his peace with it, accepting the situation for reasons she couldn’t yet fathom?
“I need to untangle this mess if I’m going to make any progress,” she murmured, as if speaking to someone else in the room.
The determination hit her like a spark, and she sat up abruptly. Swinging her legs off the bed, she slipped into her slippers and called out, “Adele.”
The mirror across the room flickered to life, the screen lighting up with the familiar face of the AI. Her voice, smooth and emotionless, greeted Nina. “Adele at your service. How may I help you?”
Nina walked over, her reflection faintly visible behind Adele’s glowing form. “Show me the last pictures Adelaide took before the final crisis that claimed her life,” she said, her voice steady, though her heart beat faster at the thought of what she might uncover.
"Fetching images..." Adele's voice was as smooth as ever. Then she vanished from the mirror, replaced by a spinning loading icon. Moments later, the screen flickered, and a cascade of images began to populate the surface. Nina’s jaw dropped as photo after photo appeared, forcing her to scroll back to the very beginning to take them all in.
There it was. The answer she’d been chasing.
Every single image revolved around Nathan and Adelaide—just the two of them. Axel was conspicuously absent. The photos told a story of a boat cruise, the kind of intimate escape that spoke volumes. Most of the pictures focused on Adelaide: laughing as the wind tousled her hair, asleep with a faint smile, mid-bite at a meal, glowing in candid moments of unfiltered joy. She looked alive in a way Nina had never seen in the carefully curated images displayed around the Whitlock home.
And then, there were the shots of her with Nathan. Holding hands, sharing a carefree laugh, him giving her a piggyback ride, hugging waist-deep in water, and—one that hit Nina like a punch—kissing, tender and unguarded.
Her eyes darted to the timestamp. May 5, 2024. Two days before Adelaide’s life spiraled into its final crisis.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, barely able to contain her shock. This wasn’t a fling or a passing fancy. The love between them was real—undeniable, unshakable. Adelaide looked so vibrant, so full of life with him. Nothing like the frail and fading Adelaide that had been described to Nina.
Her heart twisted as tears pricked her eyes. She hadn’t realized how emotional she’d become until a tear slid down her cheek. If this love had brought Adelaide so much happiness, why had the Whitlocks tried to erase every trace of it? Who had authorized such a brutal rewrite of her life?
More questions bubbled up. How had these pictures even ended up here? Shouldn’t they have been locked away on Adelaide’s phone or some hidden storage? What else were the Whitlocks concealing?
She paused on a photo that stopped her cold. Nathan, alone, staring out at the horizon. It was a candid shot, undoubtedly taken by Adelaide, and the warmth in his expression was unmistakable. Where Axel was calm and composed, Nathan was fiery and vibrant, his eyes alive with passion. His smile was easy, genuine—infectious, even through the screen.
If this man was the anchor of Adelaide’s joy, the one who made her feel safe, loved, and alive, how could she let that slip away?
The weight of her role hit her harder than ever. She wasn’t just playing Adelaide. She was becoming her. And if Nathan was part of her story, then he had to be part of hers too.
“So help me, God,” she whispered, her resolve solidifying. “I’ll love the man she loved. I’ll live the life she should have had.”
With a decisive sigh, she ended her search, powered down Adele, and climbed back into bed. The ceiling above her became her canvas for thoughts, swirling with equal parts determination and calm. The decision was made—no more playing games between two men. Nathan Graves was the one Adelaide had loved, and he would be the one Nina focused on.
The next morning, Nina woke up earlier than usual, her nerves already buzzing with the weight of first impressions. Today would be her first breakfast with her “new” parents, and she knew she had to make it count. If there was one thing she had learned about the Whitlocks, it was that appearances mattered, and she was going to set the right tone.
She didn’t waste time. First, she brushed her teeth and washed her face, the cold water doing little to calm her anxious thoughts. She slipped into a simple house dress—nothing too flashy, but polished enough to show effort. She needed to find the perfect balance between approachable and elegant.
Next came the contact lenses. After two months of wearing Adelaide’s pale-colored lenses, it had become second nature to her, though she still felt the faint sting of transformation every time she put them in. A small part of her cringed at how easily she had slipped into someone else’s identity.
She added a touch of blush to bring life to her face. Not too much—it had to look effortless, natural, like the kind of glow Adelaide might have had without trying. By the time she finished, the clock read just a few minutes to seven.
She stood in front of the mirror, taking one last look. Objectively, she looked confident—posture straight, expression serene, everything in place. But beneath the surface, her heart was in knots. The thought of sitting across from Adelaide’s real parents, pretending to be their dead daughter, gnawed at her.
No matter how perfectly she played the role, a part of her would always feel like a counterfeit. They might smile, they might even accept the illusion, but she would always carry the weight of not being her. Not truly.
She took another deep breath, smoothing down her dress. “You’ve got this,” she whispered to herself, trying to ignore the voice in the back of her mind that said otherwise. With that, she turned to leave, ready to face the day—and the Whitlocks.