The pull tab on your finger was merely a placeholder for a promise. The red dress belonged to my late daughter, Lily, and the estate is yours. But be warned: my son Caleb knows I am gone, and he will come for what he believes belongs to him. Protect Lily’s memory. Protect the shop.
With all my gratitude, Julian.
Before I could fully digest the magnitude of his message, the heavy wooden door of the hospital room swung violently open.
Part 3: The Confrontation
A tall man in a sharp charcoal suit strode into the room, accompanied by a junior associate clutching a briefcase. He possessed severe, cold features, but an unmistakable resemblance around the eyes sent a sudden chill down my spine.
It was Caleb.
He glanced briefly at the empty hospital bed before fixing his gaze entirely on Arthur, ignoring my presence completely.
