The morning after the storm, the estate was strange, unnatural calm. It wasn't the once violent winds that had howled through the trees, the wind was now a soft hum of birds and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The still churning clouds filtered sunlight across the manicured gardens of the mansion, spreading long angled shadows across the cold marble floors.
All was not serene, however, in the mansion, inside.
Standing in front of the tall ornate window in her bedroom Lily looked out on the vast sprawling estate. She sighed; her fingers lightly traced the edge of the glass. She felt like a ghost moving through the world outside became so vibrant, so full of life. Lily could see how perfect her life looked but there was this deep aching emptiness she couldn't explain.
Her thoughts scattered to random things that she somehow didn't fully understand, like some weird unease she had gotten the night before, whispers in her mind that weren't there, and a dream about a girl she had never even met.
It had shaken something inside her, something buried so long ago beneath her world of luxury and perfection. Her head echoed with the name Zoey. But it was more than a name; it was more than a coincidence.
She had to know more. It was important that she know who Zoey really was.
________________________________________
Downstairs in the Living Room:
Through the doorway blocked by a tall man with a high stature in the business world, a man stood: Lily's father. He wasn't a warm man. Every word he spoke, every move he made was planned. . Despite this, in this moment as he watched his daughter stand by the window with a sort of haunted expression, something changed in his eyes.
"His voice was gruff, but gentle," he said, in a soft voice. "She's worried about you." The gala is next week. You need to be ready. They'll be there, the board members will be there."
She turned slowly, blinking, and faced her father. His words were far away, distant, detached. Her voice was quiet and firm, but she said, 'I'll be ready, Father.'
Her father nodded and left, but when he turned to go out, he stopped, looked back at her with a hint of concern. He said there was more to life than this. "You should start thinking about what comes after these walls." It's time to get ready for when you take over the family business. You're not a child anymore."
It took Lily a while to respond. She couldn't. That future wasn't what she was ready for. Not yet.
______________________________________
Meanwhile, Miles Away – Zoey's World:
The early sunlight had twisted the cool mist rising from the water off the river, and Zoey stood at the edge of the river. The breeze stirred the surface and ripples rippled her reflection into the water. This place had always called to her, as if it was a piece of her she'd never found. The river seemed to pull her down every day after school, walking on that winding riverbank like a magnet.
She didn't know what it was about this river, about this spot, that she was so... at peace. There was also an unsettling feeling at the back of her mind, but it was also but. Stories, vague whispers, of her past, she had heard from the old woman that raised her. None of those stories ever felt whole, never gave her the whole picture. She was like she was on the edge of a cliff and there was a dark abyss in front of her that she didn't want to see into.
The old woman, who had taken Zoey in as a baby, always said the same thing when Zoey wandered too far: "Stay close, Zoey. It's not as kind as it seems, the world." Zoey couldn't help herself, however. She needed answers.
Today, it felt like the answers were already there for her.
The old woman called again, her voice a combination of warning and worry, "Zoey." "Come inside. "Stay out here too long and it's not safe."
Her fingers skimmed the water as if she were searching for something, Zoey sighed. She didn't respond right away. She wouldn't let herself go. Her eyes then locked onto something in the water, then as if drawn by an invisible force.
A half submerged wooden box bobbed gently in the river. It wasn't big, but it had a shape, something old and weathered, something that had been there for years and been hidden from the world. Zoey's heart skipped a beat. She knew what it was, but she couldn't explain why.
She plunged her hand into the water, without thinking, and retrieved the box. The thing was surprisingly light in her hands, and her fingers ran over its surface and she shivered. It was... it felt meant for her. It had been waiting for her to find it, like it.
She opened the box up very carefully, and inside was a crumpled piece of paper, stuck between faded velvet lining. It took her hands to tremble as she unfolded it and held it up to the weak sunlight that penetrated the trees.
The paper had frayed edges but the ink was still legible; the paper was aged.
The name that distinctly emerged on the page, rendered in faded bold letters, was:
Lily.
Returning to Lily's Mansion:
In her room, Lily thought of unsettling feelings that had gone on all day. She was trying to lay them off, thinking about the gala to come and her parents' expectations; but that was hard. There was an inescapable sense that something momentous was about to happen —something that would mean everything.
She considered her limits just as her mother came in, carrying a letter.
Her mother spoke to 'Lily,' her tone composed, but tense. "You must see this."
Lily's heart began to race. The letter from her mother she accepted, scrutinizing the strange hand that wrote on the envelope, from someone she had never heard of. The message was succinct yet struck her with profound impact:
"I know who you are. I know your true identity."
Her heart raced. Trembling fingers opened the letter, revealing the same phrase previously encountered—written in faded ink yet sufficiently clear:
Lily.