I bought an antique mirror at a Newport flea market, but my reflection stopped moving and wrote "Save me" in blood—uncovering my cousin's $18M old-money crime.
👉 Previous Decision: You chose to smash the mirror, leading to its confiscation.
The sterile white walls of Elmridge Sanitarium pressed in. My studio, my work, my life outside, all gone. Aunt Evelyn’s signature, cold and elegant, had been enough.
“A history of… episodes, Clara. We’re just ensuring your well-being,” she’d said, her voice dripping with practiced concern. Her legal team had efficiently leveraged my foster care records, twisting every past difficulty into proof of instability.
Julian, I knew, would be moving unhindered now. The mirror, broken and seized, was likely destroyed, its secrets buried with it. He would absorb the $18.5 million inheritance without a whisper of opposition.
The 1954 codicil, whatever it was, was just ash or landfill now. Genevieve Montclair remained a forgotten name, her spectral plea on the glass silenced forever.
I sat on the edge of the narrow bed, the sound of a distant chime echoing in the quiet hallway. My hands lay limp in my lap. The cold, silent defeat settled deep in my bones.
⚠️ BAD ENDING / GAME OVER
You were isolated and silenced, never uncovering the truth. 👈 Click to return to CHAPTER 2 to choose a different path
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