CHAPTER 85 The Masks We Wear

  Angela stood frozen in the gallery, her hands trembling as she clutched the note Michael had given her. The words written in stark, hurried script burned into her mind, each sentence laced with implications she didn't yet fully understand. The dim light from the street outside cast long shadows across the room, making Michael's figure appear even more imposing.

  Michael watched her, his expression a mix of amusement and pity. "I can see it sinking in," he said smoothly. "The cracks in the perfect little world Edmund and Julie crafted for you."

  Angela's eyes snapped to his, rage and disbelief swirling in their depths. "This… this has to be a lie. You're just trying to mess with me."

  Michael stepped closer, his polished shoes echoing on the marble floor. "If you think that, why did you come here? Why did you take the note, Angela?"