For the next few days, Grace remained completely confined to the villa.
Damien had even confiscated her phone, cutting off all her contact with the outside world, just to ensure she stayed on strict bed rest.
It wasn't until late on the third night.
An old injury in Grace's leg was throbbing, keeping her from sleep. Damien was kneeling by the bed, giving her a warm compress and a gentle massage.
A soft chime sounded.
Damien’s laptop, which he had put on silent, lit up with a faint blue glow—the encrypted alert overriding the system settings.
It was the notification sound for Grace's dedicated encrypted email.
The unique frequency signified an extremely high priority.
Grace's expression sharpened, and she started to sit up.
"Stay down," Damien said, pressing her back gently, his brow furrowed. "Nothing is more important than your health, not even if the world were ending."
"It's not the lab."
Grace stared at the special icon on the screen—a silver lark with its wings spread, ready for flight, surrounded by a complex pattern of geometric stars.
"It's Melissa."
"Melissa?" Damien raised an eyebrow as he brought the laptop over and placed it on the small overbed table.
The email contained a simple video call invitation link and a line of conspicuous red code.
[Authentication Code: DAWN-1974]
Grace's fingers trembled slightly.
"Should I open it?" Damien noticed her reaction, his large hand enveloping her small, cold one. "If you don't want to answer, you don't have to. With me here, no one can force you."
"Answer it."
Grace took a deep breath, a glint of determination in her eyes. "I want to know what my maternal grandmother really went through."
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