The orphan girl named isabelle

Previously

…I stood there, my legs feeling like lead, the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filling my senses. The woman was gone, vanished as if she had been a figment of my imagination. But the words lingered, echoing in the stillness: Be careful who you trust. I looked back at the willow, at the faint symbol on its bark. The locket felt warm against my palm, a tangible link to a past I was desperate to understand, but which now seemed to be guarded by a web of secrets and shadows, and perhaps, even danger. The quiet investigation had just become far more complex, and the whispers in the walls of the orphanage were beginning to sound like warnings.