The next day, Scott brought me to his estate—a sprawling home that now felt more like a stranger’s house than a place to begin a marriage. Ella, sweet and innocent, was in our care, yet my mind spun with doubts.
I pressed Scott for answers. “What happened to her mother? Why did you keep this from me?”
He grew tense, his jaw tightening. “It’s complicated. My stepsister, Maya—Ella’s mother—was troubled. I helped her as much as I could, but…” His words trailed off, unfinished, unsatisfying.
I wanted to believe him, but soon, the pieces stopped fitting together.
The Photograph
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