Confession under the crown of thorns

Rockefeller Estate · Dawn 5:55 AM**

Victoria was awakened by a burning pain in her collarbone. Under the moonlight, the rose tattoo was oozing tiny droplets of blood, spelling out the Latin phrase "Today there will be change" on her skin. She grabbed the silver bell by her pillow and shook it, but the maid did not arrive—this was highly unusual, as the Rockefeller household's servants were always in place before dawn. The vanity mirror suddenly fogged up, revealing a line of text: "When blue porcelain meets silver." As Victoria reached out to wipe it, her reflection in the mirror lagged three seconds before synchronizing with her movement. She abruptly pulled open the drawer, where a陌生 note was tucked beneath the antidepressant bottle—a yellowed page with a portrait of her grandmother Emily drawn in brown ink. Morning Meeting 6:30 AM**

"The Montague boy went to the Carter apartment last night." Her father tapped the genome report with the tip of his knife, "The real problem is this."

Victoria stared at the overlapping DNA spirals in the holographic projection—William and Emily's genetic match rate was as high as 12.8%, far exceeding the proportion expected for cousins. The black tea suddenly spun counterclockwise in her cup, floating a few rose petals that did not belong to any tea leaves.

"Has the Soul-Binding Mirror been active lately?" her father suddenly whispered.

Victoria's tattoo burned again. She saw not only her own face reflected on the surface of the tea, but also an old woman wearing a black veil standing behind her—the ghost of Emily's grandmother Margaret, placing her skeletal hand on her shoulder. Wardrobe Closet Secret 9:17 AM**

The temperature in the secret room was ten degrees lower than usual. In the white mist Victoria exhaled, faint Celtic runes appeared—these were discovered on a sugar wrapper she had found last week at the café where Emily worked. When she opened the drawer containing Emily's handmade jewelry, the entire mirrored cabinet suddenly frosted over.

"I know you're here," Victoria said to the air, her fingers tracing the tiny crack on the blue-and-white porcelain necklace—it was this crack that had allowed her to see the 1893 shipwreck scene when she touched it three days ago.

The frost on the mirror coalesced into the outline of an old woman: "Roses have thorns, child." The voice sounded like wind rustling through a rusty door hinge, "My granddaughter's blood will break the chains."

Victoria grabbed the perfume bottle and hurled it at the mirror, but in the instant of impact, she saw herself transformed into Emily—the commoner girl weeping with her blue eyes, the petal-shaped birthmark behind her ear glowing faintly. Confessional Vision 11:45 AM**

"Father, I dreamed of my grandmother's rose garden..." Victoria's confession was interrupted by the sudden surge of seawater. The salty liquid gushed out of the confessional's copper pipes, instantly submerging her ankles. Floating in the water were fragments of skin covered in runes—those were the genuine leather diary pages she had stolen from the family archives last night, belonging to her great-grandmother Elizabeth. On the swollen parchment, the 1901 curse contract revealed new content: "Margaret's blood can break it." As Victoria tried to grab the floating paper, the seawater suddenly receded, leaving a carpet of white roses—each petal engraved with Emily's grandmother's eyes. Banquet Hall Standoff 3:30 PM**

When Emily appeared holding a champagne tower, Victoria was adjusting the lights. The bright light pierced through the crystal glasses, casting a rainbow of colors around Emily—but in Victoria's cursed vision, those light spots were actually a protective shield composed of countless tiny runes. "Watch your step." " Victoria "kindly" warned, secretly extending her foot. But Emily suddenly turned as if she had foreseen it, not spilling a drop of champagne. The birthmark behind her ear glowed faintly, and the air carried the faint scent of lavender—Margaret's favorite fragrance before her death.

When Victoria deliberately knocked over the red wine, the liquid took an odd turn mid-air, instead splashing her own Valentino haute couture dress. The note in Emily's pocket suddenly ignited, and the ashes formed a sentence: "13 seconds in the mirror."