The river's chill clung to Angela as she trudged beside Edmund, their soaked clothes weighing them down like anchors. The forest around them had thinned, and the rising sun cast long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly across the rugged terrain. But the light did little to dispel Angela's lingering unease.

　　"Do you think they'll catch up to us?" she asked, her voice low and hoarse from exhaustion.

　　The terrain grew steeper, the air thinner. Angela's muscles burned with every step, but she pushed herself to keep up with Edmund's relentless pace.

　　Edmund scanned the area, his sharp gaze combing the horizon for signs of pursuit. "Not if we keep moving," he said. "The river will have thrown them off, at least for now. But we need to put as much distance as we can between us and that ridge."

　　Angela nodded, though her legs protested every step. They came across a shallow cave tucked into the hillside, its entrance partially hidden by dense underbrush. Edmund pushed aside the foliage and motioned for Angela to follow.

　　"We'll rest here for a bit," he said, his tone brisk but not unkind.

　　Angela sank onto the cool, hard ground with a sigh of relief, her back pressing against the rough stone wall. Edmund crouched by the entrance, his posture tense as he surveyed their surroundings.

　　"Do you think they'll ever stop?" she asked quietly.

　　Edmund's jaw clenched. "Not until we make them."

　　Edmund held her closer, resting his back to the rocky surface. Soon they both fell asleep due to the tiredness.

　　The morning sun rose hesitantly over the treetops, its weak rays barely warming the chill that clung to Angela's soaked clothes. She and Edmund trudged through the dense forest, their footsteps heavy on the soft earth. The river was now a distant roar behind them, its icy embrace a fading memory. Angela's muscles screamed with exhaustion, but her mind churned relentlessly, replaying the man's cryptic words from the night before.

　　"It's about who you are. What you are."

　　She stole a glance at Edmund. His jaw was set, his eyes scanning their surroundings with calculated precision. She knew he was deep in thought, likely turning over the same questions she was.

　　"Edmund," she began hesitantly, her voice breaking the fragile quiet.

　　He stopped, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I know what you're going to ask," he said, his tone softer than she expected. "And I wish I had the answers."

　　Angela crossed her arms, trying to steady herself. "But you must know something. Mom's obsession with me, it can't just be about the gallery, or the adoption. It feels bigger than that. The man said I'm something. Not someone, something. What does that mean?"

　　Edmund didn't answer immediately. He leaned against the cave wall, his features shadowed. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice taut with frustration. "But Julie does. And that's why she won't let you go."

　　Angela's chest tightened. "Do you think it has to do with why she adopted me?"

　　Edmund hesitated. "I think it has everything to do with it. This isn't about love or family, Angela. It never was."

　　The truth hit her like a punch to the gut, even though part of her had suspected it all along. Her entire life had been orchestrated, manipulated by Julie for reasons she still couldn't understand.

　　Angela shivered, though the morning air had begun to warm. "So where do we start?"

　　Edmund's eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting toward the forest path ahead. "I know someone who might have answers. Someone Julie worked with years ago, back when she was first building her empire."

　　Angela frowned. "You think they'll help us?"

　　"Help might be a stretch," Edmund admitted. "But they'll talk. For the right price."

　　Angela's pulse quickened. "Who is it?"

　　Edmund hesitated, as if saying the name aloud might summon some long-forgotten ghost. "Michael."

　　The name hit her like a thunderclap. Angela's thoughts immediately darted to the enigmatic figure from her mother's orbit. Michael, with his cold demeanor and watchful eyes, had always seemed more like a shadow than a person. She'd only met him a handful of times, but his presence had been enough to unsettle her.

　　"Michael?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. "He's dangerous, Edmund. What makes you think he'd even speak to us?"

　　"Because he has no loyalty to Julie anymore," Edmund replied grimly. "Their partnership fell apart years ago. If anyone has a reason to want her plans to fail, it's him."

　　Angela bit her lip, uncertainty gnawing at her. "And what if he's still working with her? What if this is a trap?"

　　Edmund's expression darkened. "Then we deal with it. But right now, we don't have any other options."

　　Reluctantly, Angela nodded. "Where do we find him?"

　　"Chicago," Edmund said, his tone firm. "But it won't be easy. Michael doesn't exactly make himself available to old friends."

　　Angela sighed, the weight of their situation pressing heavily on her shoulders. "Then we'd better get moving."

　　The journey to Chicago was grueling, filled with stolen cars, back roads, and sleepless nights. They avoided major highways and stuck to cash transactions, always keeping an eye out for pursuers. By the time they arrived on the outskirts of the city, Angela felt like a hollow shell, her nerves stretched thin.

　　Edmund pulled the car into an abandoned lot, killing the engine. "We can't risk going into the city together," he said, turning to Angela. "You'll stay here while I make contact."

　　Angela bristled. "Are you kidding me? You're just going to leave me out here alone?"

　　"It's safer this way," Edmund insisted. "If something goes wrong, I don't want you caught in the middle of it."

　　"But what if something happens to you?" Angela shot back, her voice rising. "What am I supposed to do then?"

　　Edmund reached over, his hand closing over hers. "If something happens, you keep moving. You find Elena."

　　Angela stiffened at the name. Elena, the undercover journalist who had infiltrated her life, exposing secrets while keeping plenty of her own. Their relationship had been complicated from the start, but now it felt like a lifeline, however frayed.

　　"Elena?" Angela asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

　　"She's in New York," Edmund said. "And she's the only person who might be able to help if things go south. You can trust her, Angela. I know it doesn't seem like it, but you can."

　　Angela swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "I don't like this."

　　"You don't have to," Edmund said gently. "But it's the only way."

　　Angela's heart pounded as she watched him disappear into the underbrush. Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes, each one heavier than the last.

　　Michael's safe house was tucked away in an industrial district, its unassuming exterior hiding the fortress within. Edmund approached cautiously, his senses on high alert. The door was reinforced steel, with a small camera mounted above it. He pressed the intercom button, his finger hovering for a split second before committing.

　　"State your business," a distorted voice crackled through the speaker.

　　"It's Edmund," he said evenly. "I need to talk."

　　There was a long pause, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Finally, the door clicked open, and a low voice beckoned him inside.

　　Michael sat at a sleek metal table, his posture relaxed but his eyes razor-sharp. He hadn't aged much since Edmund had last seen him, still lean, still dressed in tailored black, still exuding an air of quiet menace.

　　"Edmund," Michael said, his tone neutral. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

　　"I wouldn't be here if I had a choice," Edmund replied, taking a seat across from him.

　　Michael arched a brow, his gaze flicking over Edmund with calculated precision. "And yet, here you are. What do you want?"

　　"Answers," Edmund said bluntly.

　　Michael leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "About what?"

　　"Julie," Edmund said. "And Angela."

　　At the mention of Angela's name, Michael's expression shifted, his smirk fading. "Ah," he said, his voice carrying a note of understanding. "So you've finally caught on."

　　"What's Julie after?" Edmund demanded, his tone sharp. "Why is Angela so important to her?"

　　Michael didn't answer right away. Instead, he stood, moving to a cabinet in the corner of the room. He retrieved a thin file, tossing it onto the table in front of Edmund.

　　"Everything Julie's done, every move she's made, it all comes back to this," Michael said, his voice low.

　　Edmund opened the file, his eyes scanning the documents inside. His blood ran cold as he pieced together the implications.

　　"Angela's father…" he muttered, his voice trailing off.

　　Michael nodded. "Not just her father. A man with enough influence to tip the scales in ways you can't even imagine. Julie's been playing the long game, Edmund. And Angela is the key."

　　Edmund's jaw tightened as he closed the file. "Does Angela know?"

　　"Not yet," Michael said. "But she will. And when she does, everything will change."

　　Back in the car, Angela paced nervously, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When Edmund finally returned, his face was pale, his expression grim.

　　"What happened?" she asked, rushing to meet him.

　　He hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing heavily on his shoulders. "I found out why Julie wants you," he said finally. "But it's not something I can just tell you. It's something you have to see for yourself."

　　Angela frowned, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. "What does that even mean?"

　　"It means we're going to New York," Edmund said. "To find Elena."

　　Angela's heart sank at the thought. She wasn't sure she could trust Elena, not after everything, but it seemed she had no choice.

　　"Why her?" Angela asked, her voice barely steady.

　　"Because she knows things," Edmund said simply. "And if we're going to take Julie down, we're going to need every advantage we can get."

　　Angela nodded reluctantly, her resolve hardening. Whatever truths awaited her in New York, she was ready to face them.

　　Even if they shattered everything she thought she knew about herself.