PART 3 — THE WOMAN AT THE DOOR WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD
The woman outside smiled.
Not warmly.
Not nervously.
She smiled like someone who had waited years for this exact moment.
Lily’s tiny voice broke the silence.
“That isn’t Mom.”
Julian’s hand disappeared beneath his jacket.
“Everybody away from the door.”
The woman knocked again.
Three slow taps.
“Jules?”
Julian flinched.
It was Claire’s voice.
Perfectly.
I watched his face and understood something terrible.
Part of him wanted to believe.
It didn’t matter that his instincts warned him.
It didn’t matter that Lily was shaking.
A man could become weak in exactly one place and still terrify the rest of the world.
For Julian Mercer, that place had just spoken through the front door.
Daniel came rushing from the corridor.
“Sir, step back.”
“Who is she?”
“We’re trying to determine that.”
The woman outside raised one hand.
Something metallic flashed.
Daniel shouted.
“DOWN!”
The front window exploded.
Glass sprayed across the marble.
Julian grabbed Lily.
Daniel fired once.
The woman vanished behind a stone pillar.
Security guards flooded the hallway.
I dropped beside the staircase, heart pounding so violently I thought I might vomit.
Then the woman rushed through the shattered side panel.
Daniel tackled her.
They hit the floor.
A gun slid across the marble.
She fought with terrifying precision, twisting beneath him, reaching for his throat.
Julian crossed the distance in seconds.
He seized her wrist.
“Who are you?”
She laughed.
Claire’s laugh.
I saw his face go pale.
Then Daniel caught the edge of her cheek.
Something peeled.
Skin.
Except it wasn’t skin.
He yanked.
A thin piece of flesh-colored material tore from her face.
Lily screamed.
Beneath Claire’s features was another woman entirely.
Shorter nose.
Sharper jaw.
Brown eyes.
A silicone mask.
Julian stared at her.
His grief transformed instantly into rage.
“You wore my wife’s face.”
The woman smiled through blood.
“We needed to know if the girl would recognize her.”
Julian’s voice became frighteningly quiet.
“Which girl?”
She looked straight at me.
“Her.”
My stomach dropped.
Daniel forced her arms behind her.
“What do you want with Emily?”
The woman laughed again.
“There is no Emily.”
Julian moved toward her.
“Explain.”
She looked at me.
“Ask Sarah Callahan.”
“My mother is dead.”
“No.”
One word.
My entire body went cold.
“She died when I was six.”
The woman’s smile widened.
“Then you remember exactly what she wanted you to remember.”
Before I could speak, she bit down sharply.
Daniel cursed.
Foam appeared at the corner of her mouth.
“Capsule!”
Seconds later, she stopped moving.
The silence afterward was worse than the gunshot.
Lily buried her face against Julian.
I stared at the dead woman wearing half of Claire’s stolen face.
Then Daniel’s radio crackled.
“We found something in her coat.”
“What?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“No idea.”
A guard handed Julian a small brass key.
Attached was a faded paper tag.
Three handwritten words covered it.
GREENHOUSE.
BLUE DOOR.
Evelyn went completely still.
Julian noticed.
“Mother?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mother.”
Her lips parted.
“There hasn’t been a blue door on the greenhouse for twenty-three years.”
My pulse quickened.
“What happened twenty-three years ago?”
Evelyn slowly turned toward me.
“That was the year Sarah Callahan came here.”
I stared.
“My mother knew you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn’s eyes filled with something I couldn’t read.
Fear.
Shame.
Memory.
“Because she brought a little girl with her.”
My breath stopped.
Evelyn whispered:
“And that little girl was not named Emily.”
—
PART 4 — THE GRAVE WITH THE WRONG NAME
Snow swallowed our footsteps as we crossed the estate.
Julian wanted me downstairs with Lily.
I refused.
Maybe fear should have kept me inside.
Instead, something stronger pulled me forward.
For twenty years, I had possessed only fragments of childhood.
My mother’s perfume.
A yellow kitchen.
Rain against a window.
Her hands brushing my hair.
A funeral I barely remembered.
A gravestone bearing the name Sarah Hayes.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
The greenhouse stood beyond the eastern gardens.
Most of its glass was covered with snow.
At the rear, hidden beneath climbing ivy, we found an old wooden panel painted beneath years of weathering.
Blue.
The key fit.
Julian opened it.
Inside was a narrow storage room.
No plants.
No gardening equipment.
Only a table.
A projector.
And one envelope.
On the front:
FOR AVA.
I stopped.
Julian looked at me.
“Do you know that name?”
I shook my head.
But something inside me had reacted.
Not recognition.
Something deeper.
Like hearing a melody from infancy.
I opened the envelope.
There was a photograph inside.
Two little girls sat beneath a Christmas tree.
One was perhaps six.
The other looked eight or nine.
The older girl was Claire.
The younger girl was me.
My knees almost gave way.
On the back someone had written:
Claire and Ava — Christmas, 1999.
“No.”
Julian caught my elbow.
“I don’t remember her.”
My voice cracked.
“I would remember Claire.”
“Not necessarily.”
Evelyn had followed us.
She stood in the doorway.
“Not if someone worked very hard to make sure you didn’t.”
The projector clicked on by itself.
A woman appeared on the wall.
Older than I remembered.
But unmistakable.
My mother.
Sarah.
I couldn’t breathe.
She looked directly into the camera.
“If you’re watching this, Ava, then Gideon found you.”
I covered my mouth.
Sarah continued.
“First, forgive me.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“Your name is Ava Callahan.”
The room disappeared around me.
“You were never born Emily Hayes.”
Julian stared at the screen.
Sarah’s voice trembled.
“Emily Hayes was my daughter.”
I whispered, “What?”
“She died in a house fire when she was six.”
My stomach turned.
“You were three.”
Sarah looked down briefly.
“When your mother was killed, I took you.”
My legs failed.
Julian caught me.
Sarah continued.
“Your mother was my sister Margaret.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“You were Claire’s cousin.”
Every breath hurt.
“Gideon Voss was your father.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
I knew that name.
Everyone in New York finance did.
Gideon Voss.
Investor.
Philanthropist.
Political donor.
A man photographed beside mayors and senators.
Sarah’s recorded voice continued.
“He killed Margaret when she discovered what he had built.”
“What?”
I whispered.
“A network of bribery, blackmail, judges, police officers, union officials, politicians.
He called it Orpheus.”
Julian cursed softly.
Then Sarah said the words that changed everything again.
“Claire discovered Orpheus too.”
Julian stepped closer to the projection.
Sarah’s face tightened.
“And three years ago, Claire made the same choice I did.”
Julian stopped breathing.
“She disappeared.”
Lily’s voice came from behind us.
“What does disappeared mean?”
We turned.
She stood beside Daniel.
Nobody had heard them enter.
Sarah answered from the recording.
“It means Claire Mercer is alive.”
Lily made a sound I will never forget.
Half sob.
Half gasp.
“Mom?”
Julian gripped the table.
Sarah looked through twenty years of secrets and directly into our shattered family.
“But if Gideon has reached Ava, Claire may not remain alive for long.”
The screen went black.
Then one final sentence appeared.
THE BLUE SCARF IS THE KEY.
—
PART 5 — THE MAN WHO CALLED HIMSELF MY FATHER
We raced back toward the mansion.
Halfway there, the estate lights died.
Every single one.
Daniel stopped.
“Julian.”
“I know.”
The security system had gone silent.
No alarms.
No radios.
No lights.
Nothing.
Julian grabbed my hand.
“Stay close.”
We entered through the kitchen.
The house was dark except for candles from dinner still burning in the distance.
Then applause drifted from the dining room.
Slow.
Mocking.
A man sat at the head of the table.
Silver hair.
Charcoal suit.
Calm blue eyes.
I recognized him immediately.
Gideon Voss.
Six armed men stood around him.
Evelyn was seated nearby.
A gun pointed at her head.
Lily clung to Daniel behind us.
Gideon smiled at me.
“There she is.”
Julian stepped forward.
“You entered my home.”
“I’ve entered far more secure places.”
Gideon studied me.
“Hello, Ava.”
“My name is Emily.”
“No.
Emily is buried beside Sarah’s imaginary grave.”
My hands shook.
“Where is Sarah?”
His smile changed.
“You still call her your mother.”
“She was.”
“She stole you from me.”
“You killed mine.”
His expression barely shifted.
“Margaret was sentimental.”
Something murderous entered Julian’s face.
Gideon continued.
“She believed discovering the truth entitled her to destroy me.”
“And Claire?”
For the first time, Gideon looked irritated.
“Claire inherited Margaret’s curiosity.”
Julian’s voice dropped.
“If you touched my wife—”
“I tried.”
Lily flinched.
Gideon noticed her.
His expression softened grotesquely.
“Hello, Lily.”
Julian stepped between them.
“Look at her again and I’ll kill you.”
Gideon smiled.
“There he is.”
Then he pointed toward me.
“The scarf.”
I had tucked it under my coat.
“No.”
“You don’t know what it contains.”
“Neither do you.”
His eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
He truly didn’t.
“The mark stitched into it,” he said, “is Orpheus encryption.”
Daniel frowned.
“A cipher?”
“A map.”
“To what?”
Gideon smiled.
“Everything.”
Twenty-five years of names.
Payments.
Murders.
Judges.
Senators.
Police commissioners.
Bank accounts.
If Claire had hidden the evidence somewhere, the scarf pointed to it.
Gideon stood.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
A gun pressed harder against Evelyn’s temple.
Julian whispered, “Emily.”
I looked at him.
He gave the smallest nod.
Trust me.
So I removed the scarf.
And threw it toward Gideon.
He caught it.
Lily suddenly shouted:
“That isn’t the key!”
Everyone turned.
My heart stopped.
Gideon stared at her.
“What did you say?”
Lily looked terrified.
But she lifted her chin.
“My mom taught me that game.”
Julian’s face changed.
“Lily—”
“She said grown-ups always look at the obvious thing.”
Gideon walked toward her.
Julian moved.
Three guns rose immediately.
“Careful.”
Gideon crouched.
“What game?”
Lily looked toward the library.
And suddenly I remembered.
The Christmas tree.
The ornaments.
The ridiculous plastic dinosaur.
The T-Rex.
Lily had said Claire liked blue.
But Claire had bought the scarf with Lily one day before her “death.”
It was never meant to contain the evidence.
It was meant to point Lily toward something she would remember.
A childish hiding place.
A Christmas secret.
Gideon understood a second too late.
Daniel moved first.
He slammed his elbow into the nearest gunman.
Julian attacked another.
I grabbed Lily.
Gunfire exploded through the dining room.
And Evelyn—
elegant, seventy-year-old Evelyn—
picked up an entire silver champagne bucket and smashed it over a gunman’s head.
“Run!” she shouted.
Lily and I raced toward the library.
Behind us, Gideon screamed:
“GET THE DINOSAUR!”
—
PART 6 — THE SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO OUTSMARTED A KING
The T-Rex hung halfway up the Christmas tree.
Lily scrambled beneath the branches.
“I can’t reach!”
I lifted her.
Behind us came footsteps.
“Faster!”
Her fingers closed around the dinosaur.
She ripped it free.
Gideon entered the library.
Gun raised.
“Put her down.”
I froze.
Lily clutched the ornament.
Gideon smiled.
“Give it to me.”
Lily looked at him.
Then at me.
Then she did something insane.
She threw it into the fireplace.
“No!”
Gideon lunged.
But the dinosaur hit the stone instead of the flames and cracked open.
A tiny metal capsule rolled across the floor.
Everyone stared.
Gideon dove.
So did I.
His hand caught my hair.
Pain exploded through my scalp.
I kicked backward.
The capsule rolled beneath the piano.
Then the windows shattered.
Men flooded the room.
Gideon spun.
“DROP IT!”
But these weren’t his men.
Dark uniforms.
Federal tactical team.
Daniel appeared behind them, bleeding from his forehead.
“About time.”
Gideon stared at him.
“You.”
Daniel smiled.
“Daniel Reeves, Federal Organized Crime Task Force.”
Julian entered behind him.
“You could have mentioned that.”
Daniel winced.
“You don’t exactly enjoy government employees.”
“Correct.”
Agents restrained Gideon’s surviving men.
Gideon himself did not resist.
Instead, he laughed.
“You think this ends because you found a little capsule?”
Daniel retrieved it.
“It helps.”
“No.”
Gideon looked at me.
“Ask your mother.”
My breath caught.
“Where is Sarah?”
A woman answered from the doorway.
“Right here.”
I turned.
Everything inside me stopped.
She was older.
Her hair was almost completely silver.
There were lines around her eyes.
A scar crossed her neck.
But I knew her.
Not from photographs.
Not from the recording.
From somewhere before memory.
“Mom?”
Sarah Callahan began to cry.
I crossed the room.
I don’t remember moving.
One second she was across from me.
The next I was in her arms.
Twenty years collapsed.
I smelled lavender.
And suddenly I was six again.
Yellow kitchen.
Rain.
Her hand brushing my hair.
“Mom.”
“I’m sorry.”
I sobbed against her shoulder.
“I thought you died.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you died.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because Gideon was watching every person you loved.”
I pulled away.
Anger fought grief.
“You left me alone.”
Her face crumpled.
“To keep you alive.”
A second figure entered behind her.
Julian stopped moving.
Lily dropped the broken dinosaur.
The woman was thin.
Her dark hair was shorter than in the photographs.
A pale scar cut through one eyebrow.
Lily stared.
This time she didn’t say, “That isn’t Mom.”
She whispered:
“Mommy?”
Claire Mercer fell to her knees.
Lily ran.
The sound Claire made when she caught her daughter broke everyone in the room.
Julian stood several feet away.
Claire looked at him over Lily’s shoulder.
Neither moved.
Three years of grief existed between them.
Three years of funerals.
Birthdays.
Christmas mornings.
Nightmares.
Questions.
Then Julian crossed the room.
And held them both.
For once, nobody spoke.
Nobody needed to.
Outside, snow continued falling.
Inside, two dead women had just come home.
But Gideon Voss was still smiling.
And when Daniel finally noticed, he asked:
“What’s funny?”
Gideon looked toward the capsule.
“You think Claire hid the Orpheus files there?”
Claire slowly lifted her head.
“No.”
Daniel frowned.
“Then what’s inside?”
Claire wiped her tears.
“Nothing.”
Gideon’s smile disappeared.
Claire looked at Lily.
“The dinosaur was never the evidence.”
Lily blinked.
Claire smiled.
“She was.”
—
PART 7 — THE SECRET CLAIRE HID INSIDE HER DAUGHTER’S CHRISTMAS
Julian turned sharply.
“What does that mean?”
Claire stood, still holding Lily’s hand.
“Not literally.”
Evelyn exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Even Daniel looked relieved.
Claire approached the piano.
“When I discovered Orpheus, I knew anything digital could be stolen.”
“So where did you put it?”
Daniel asked.
“I divided it.”
She pointed toward Lily.
“She memorized part of the retrieval sequence without knowing what it was.”
Julian stared at her.
“You involved our daughter?”
“I taught her songs.
Numbers.
Little games.
Addresses disguised as rhymes.”
Lily’s eyes widened.
“The Christmas game.”
Claire nodded.
“Exactly.”
Lily whispered:
“Red house, blue door, seven birds, four stars…”
Daniel began writing.
Claire continued.
“The other half was hidden with Sarah.”
Sarah removed a small pendant from her neck.
Inside was a memory key.
Daniel connected the two clues.
Within minutes, secure servers began opening across three jurisdictions.
Names appeared.
Accounts.
Recordings.
Payments.
Gideon’s empire unfolded line by line.
His calm finally vanished.
“You stupid girl.”
Claire looked at him.
“No.”
Then she smiled.
“My mother was the curious girl.”
She glanced at me.
“Sarah was the brave one.”
Then at Lily.
“And apparently we’ve made another.”
Federal agents led Gideon away.
Before leaving, he turned toward me.
“You think these people are your family now?”
I looked at Sarah.
Claire.
Lily.
Evelyn.
Then Julian.
A few hours earlier, I had been cleaning abandoned wine glasses in an empty restaurant.
Now I stood in a destroyed library surrounded by the strangest collection of broken people I had ever known.
“Yes,” I said.
Gideon laughed.
“You don’t even know them.”
Lily answered before I could.
“Neither did I this morning.”
Gideon looked at her.
She crossed her arms.
“And I was right.”
Daniel laughed.
Even Julian smiled.
The agents took Gideon away.
Later, after statements and doctors and police and enough government vehicles to make the estate look occupied by an army, dawn began staining the windows gray.
Claire sat alone near the Christmas tree.
Julian approached her.
I tried not to listen.
I failed.
“Three years,” he said.
“I know.”
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You let Lily cry for you.”
Claire broke.
“I know.”
Julian’s anger collapsed with hers.
She whispered, “If Gideon believed I contacted either of you, he would have killed Lily.”
“You should have trusted me.”
“I trusted you enough to stay away.”
That silenced him.
Claire looked toward their daughter.
“I wanted to come home every day.”
Julian sat beside her.
“Are you staying?”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know what home means anymore.”
He nodded slowly.
“We can figure it out.”
Not a romantic declaration.
Not forgiveness.
Something more honest.
A beginning.
Across the room, Sarah touched my hand.
“You hate me.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re allowed.”
“I needed you.”
“I know.”
I looked at her.
“Are you leaving again?”
She shook her head.
“Never voluntarily.”
I laughed through tears.
It felt strange.
Beautiful.
Lily suddenly appeared between us.
“Good.”
She climbed into my lap.
“Because Christmas isn’t over.”
I looked at the clock.
7:12 a.m.
Technically, she was right.
Julian entered carrying coffee.
He handed me one.
“You stayed.”
“You ordered me to.”
“I recall offering dinner.”
“I recall gunfire.”
“A minor complication.”
I smiled.
He smiled back.
Claire noticed.
Her eyebrow rose.
Julian saw.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
Claire looked at me.
Then at him.
Then laughed.
A real laugh.
And for the first time, the house no longer felt haunted.
But Lily was staring at me strangely.
“What?”
She bit her lip.
“There’s one more secret.”
Every adult in the room groaned.
—
PART 8 — THE CHRISTMAS INVITATION THAT WAS NEVER AN ACCIDENT
Lily disappeared upstairs.
When she returned, she carried a small wooden box.
Claire froze.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your closet.”
Julian sighed.
“We will discuss boundaries later.”
Lily ignored him.
She opened the box.
Inside were photographs.
Claire and Sarah.
Claire and me as children.
Margaret.
And one picture of me as an adult.
Standing outside Bell & Rowan.
Taken months earlier.
I looked at Claire.
“You knew where I worked?”
Claire nodded.
“We found you eleven months ago.”
My shock turned instantly to anger.
“Eleven months?”
Sarah lowered her eyes.
“We couldn’t approach safely.”
“So last night—”
“Was not planned,” Claire said.
Everyone looked at Lily.
She suddenly found the carpet fascinating.
Julian narrowed his eyes.
“Lily.”
“I might have seen the picture.”
“When?”
“A while ago.”
“How long?”
“Maybe June.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“And?”
“I remembered her.”
I stared at her.
“You recognized me at the restaurant?”
She nodded.
That explained everything.
The two passes down the street.
Her insistence on entering.
The questions.
The way she had stared at me.
“You knew who I was?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I just knew Mom had your picture.”
My eyes filled.
“So you invited me home because—”
“I thought maybe you mattered.”
Silence swallowed the room.
Lily shrugged.
“And you looked sad.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Sarah began crying again.
Julian looked at his daughter as if she had somehow rearranged the universe.
Because she had.
A seven-year-old child had accidentally completed a rescue operation that adults had spent twenty years failing to finish.
She had brought Ava Callahan home.
She had pulled Sarah out of hiding.
She had helped expose Gideon.
And she had returned Claire Mercer to her family.
All because a waitress looked lonely on Christmas Eve.
Months passed.
Gideon Voss’s arrest destroyed Orpheus.
Twenty-three officials resigned or were charged.
Three cold murder cases reopened.
Daniel became publicly unbearable about having “saved Christmas.”
Evelyn claimed she had done more damage with the champagne bucket.
She was probably right.
Sarah moved into a cottage near the Mercer estate.
We fought.
We cried.
We rebuilt twenty years one conversation at a time.
Claire did not simply resume her old life.
Neither did Julian.
They had both changed too much.
They became something different—parents first, wounded friends second, former lovers who finally stopped punishing themselves for surviving.
And somehow that was happier than pretending the past could be restored.
As for me—
I stopped being Emily Hayes only on paper.
Legally, I reclaimed Ava Emily Callahan.
Emily had belonged to a little girl who deserved to be remembered.
Ava belonged to me.
But everyone still called me Emily half the time.
Especially Julian.
Six months later, he walked into Bell & Rowan ten minutes before closing.
No security convoy.
No daughter.
No crisis.
Just Julian.
I looked up.
“What are you doing here?”
“Offering dinner.”
I stared at him.
“Are armed men going to interrupt?”
“Statistically unlikely.”
“Dead relatives?”
“Claire is very much alive and currently teaching Lily how to cheat at cards.”
“International criminal conspiracy?”
“Daniel promised to handle it.”
I laughed.
Julian stepped closer.
There was no grief in his expression now.
No assessment.
No fear.
Just patience.
“You don’t have to say yes.”
That surprised me.
The man who had once said Get your coat as though the universe obeyed him was giving me a choice.
I untied my apron.
“One dinner?”
His mouth curved.
“One dinner.”
I grabbed my coat.
Outside, summer rain had replaced Christmas snow.
At the door, I stopped.
“There’s something I never understood.”
“What?”
“That first night.
When Lily asked who was waiting for me at home…”
He waited.
“I thought the answer was no one.”
Julian’s eyes softened.
“And now?”
Through the window, I could see Lily inside the SUV waving both arms wildly.
Claire sat beside her laughing.
Sarah was in the front passenger seat.
Evelyn was apparently arguing with Daniel through the open window.
I stared at them.
At the impossible family that had formed out of lies, grief, accidents, danger, and one child’s stubborn refusal to leave a lonely woman alone.
I smiled.
“Now I think they were waiting for me all along.”
Julian offered his hand.
I took it.
Then Lily pushed open the SUV door and shouted:
“Are you two getting married?”
Julian nearly dropped my hand.
“Lily.”
“What?
Grandma has a bet with Daniel.”
Daniel shouted from the driver’s seat.
“I specifically told her not to tell you!”
Evelyn leaned toward the window.
“Daniel has September.
I chose December.”
Sarah laughed so hard she had to turn away.
Claire simply smiled at me.
For a moment, I thought of the first Christmas.
The locked restaurant.
The blue scarf.
The woman wearing another woman’s face.
The lies buried beneath twenty years.
Then I looked at Lily.
“What month did you choose?”
She grinned.
“I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because Papa is slow.”
Julian sighed.
Everyone laughed.
And that should have been the end of the story.
Except three weeks later, Lily found one last envelope hidden inside Claire’s old wooden box.
It had no return address.
No cipher.
No threat.
Only my new name written across the front.
AVA EMILY CALLAHAN.
Inside was a single photograph.
Sarah.
Margaret.
Claire.
And another woman none of us recognized.
They were standing outside the Mercer greenhouse twenty-three years earlier.
On the back was a handwritten message:
There were four Callahan girls.
I stared at Claire.
Claire stared at Sarah.
Sarah’s smile vanished.
“What?”
I whispered.
My mother sat down slowly.
Her hands began to tremble.
“No,” she said.
“Mom?”
She looked at the photograph as though a ghost had reached through time and touched her shoulder.
Then she whispered the last thing any of us expected:
“That woman is the reason Gideon was afraid of us.”
Outside, Lily called from the garden.
Inside, Julian took my hand.
Sarah turned the photograph over once more.
Beneath the first message, written so faintly we had almost missed it, were six additional words:
And the eldest one is still alive.
For once, I didn’t feel afraid.
I looked through the open doors at the people waiting for me.
My mother.
My cousin.
Lily.
Julian.
My impossible, chaotic, unfinished family.
Whatever came next, I would not face it alone.
And that, more than revenge, secrets, money, or names, was the ending none of our enemies had ever planned for.
I had finally come home.
Source: Stories of Destiny · Nhan Nhan
