Anastasia sat by the window, her gaze distant as the rain pattered softly against the glass. The weight of her confession still hung in the air, and though Daniel had stayed by her side all night, there was a strange emptiness in the room. She hadn't slept. How could she, after opening up those old wounds?
Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation from the day before in Daniel's office. It had been painful to recall, but necessary. She could still hear her own voice echoing in the quiet office.
"At the age of ten, I never knew much, but I clearly heard what that woman told Mom," her words had shaken Daniel to the core. "She said, 'I was born out of wedlock, and if Mom didn't want the whole country to hate me, we should leave quietly and be satisfied with the money Dad left us.'"
