Emily stepped forward.
"Do you mean Margaret Carter?"
The housekeeper's eyes widened.
Before she could answer, Victoria appeared.
"Enough."
Everyone turned.
Victoria looked furious.
"This room is not a place for idle conversations."
Adrian frowned.
"Mother, we're just discussing an old music box."
"Then discuss it somewhere else."
She took the box from the table and placed it inside a drawer.
"Some memories are better left untouched."
Emily looked confused.
But Adrian was becoming suspicious.
That evening, he searched through Sophia's belongings.
He found an old diary.
Most of its pages contained ordinary memories, but one entry caught his attention.
March 14.
I met Margaret again today. She looked older, but her eyes were the same. I wanted to ask her about the baby, but I couldn't. Victoria has warned me never to bring up the past.
Adrian read the sentence twice.
The baby?
What baby?
He turned the page.
It had been torn out.
For the first time, Adrian realized his wife might have been hiding something from him.
And whatever it was, his mother knew about it.
Adrian couldn't stop thinking about Sophia's diary.
For years, he had believed he knew everything about his wife.
They had married young, built a family, and welcomed Daniel into the world.
Their relationship had not been perfect, but he had loved her deeply.
Yet the diary suggested that Sophia had carried a secret.
A secret involving Emily's mother.
The following morning, Adrian asked Michael to investigate Margaret Carter.
"Find every record you can. Employment history, medical records, old addresses, anything."
Michael nodded.
"Is this related to Miss Emily?"
"Possibly."
Meanwhile, Emily was preparing Daniel's breakfast.
The baby had started teething and was unusually uncomfortable.
She gently rubbed his back while singing the melody from the music box.
Adrian entered the kitchen.
He stopped when he heard the song.
"Where did you learn that?"
Emily looked up.
"My mother."
"Did she ever tell you where she learned it?"
Emily thought for a moment.
"She said it came from someone she once loved."
Adrian's expression tightened.
"Someone she loved?"
"Yes. But she never talked about him."
"Did she have any photographs?"
Emily nodded.
"One, I think. But she kept it in a box."
"Do you still have it?"
"Yes, at my apartment."
Adrian didn't push further.
He looked at Daniel, who was now reaching for his spoon.
"How is he?"
"His gums are bothering him. But he'll be fine."
Adrian watched Emily carefully.
"Thank you."
She smiled.
"You don't have to thank me every day."
"I know."
He paused.
"But I want to."
Later that afternoon, Adrian took Daniel to the garden.
Emily joined them.
The baby was fascinated by a butterfly resting on a rose.
He stretched out his tiny hand, laughing.
Adrian smiled.
Then he said quietly, "I used to bring Sophia here."
Emily listened.
"After she died, I stopped coming."
"Why?"
"Because every corner of this place reminded me of her."
Emily looked toward the flowers.
"Maybe she would have wanted you to keep enjoying them."
Adrian swallowed.
"Sometimes I feel guilty when I laugh."
"Why?"
"Because she isn't here to share those moments."
Emily considered his words.
"My mother used to tell me that grief is proof that someone mattered. But she also said that love shouldn't become a prison."
Adrian looked at her.
"Your mother said that?"
"Yes."
He smiled sadly.
"She was right."
That evening, Daniel became unusually restless.
He woke several times during the night, crying whenever the nanny tried to comfort him.
Emily heard him from her room and immediately went to the nursery.
She found Adrian sitting beside the crib.
"He's been crying for nearly an hour," he whispered.
Emily approached.
"May I?"
Adrian handed the baby to her.
Daniel slowly calmed down.
Emily began humming the familiar melody.
Within minutes, his eyes closed.
Adrian sat quietly beside her.
"How do you do that?"
Emily smiled.
"I don't think I'm doing anything special."
"Perhaps you are."
He looked at his son.
"I made a promise to Sophia."
Emily listened.
"I promised I would give Daniel the best life possible. But sometimes I wonder whether I've been so busy trying to protect him that I've forgotten to let him live."
Emily looked at the sleeping baby.
"Then start now."
Adrian turned toward her.
For a long moment, their eyes met.
Something passed between them.
Not quite love.
Not yet.
But the beginning of something neither was ready to name.
Adrian gently touched Daniel's little hand.
"I promise you," he whispered, "I'll never let anything hurt you again."
Emily lowered her eyes.
She didn't know that someone standing outside the nursery had heard every word.
Victoria.
And she was about to make sure that promise would be tested.
The following Monday, Emily received a phone call from her younger brother.
"Emily, have you seen Mom's old photograph box?"
She frowned.
"What happened?"
"I was cleaning the apartment. I found it under your bed."
Emily smiled.
"Don't throw anything away. I'll look at it when I come home."
Noah hesitated.
"There's something strange inside."
"What?"
"A photograph of Mom with a woman I've never seen before."
Emily paused.
"Can you send me a picture?"
A few minutes later, her phone vibrated.
Emily opened the image.
It showed her mother standing beside a younger woman wearing an elegant white dress.
The woman looked remarkably familiar.
Emily stared at the photograph.
It was Sophia.
She recognized her immediately from the portraits in the mansion.
But why would her mother have a photograph with Adrian's late wife?
Emily zoomed in.
On the back, Noah had photographed a handwritten message.
To Margaret, my dearest friend. Whatever happens, I will always remember what you did for me.
Emily felt a chill run down her spine.
She immediately called Noah.
"Where did you find this?"
"In the box with her old letters."
"Are there more?"
"Yes. A lot."
Emily asked him to keep everything safe.
Then she went downstairs.
Adrian was in his study.
"Can I speak with you?"
He looked up.
"Of course."
Emily showed him the photograph.
Adrian stared at it.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
"Where did you get this?"
"My mother kept it."