“The will is clear,” Sachiko said quietly. “The estate passes to me.”
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“Then prove it.” He held out a chain—delicate, antique, each link shaped like a tiny flower. “Wear this tomorrow at the reading of the will. Tell everyone we’re engaged. Help me take back what’s mine… and I’ll give you the truth.” “The will is clear,” Sachiko said quietly
“Lies,” Sachiko breathed.
That night, she found a box in her mother’s room. Inside: a single photograph—Itsuki’s mother, her father, holding hands beneath the same wisteria. And a dried butterfly, pinned through the heart. “The will is clear