PART 8 — THE SISTER WHO STOLE MY FACE
YOU TOOK YOUR LIFE BACK.
NOW I’M COMING TO TAKE MINE.
The message came from my own phone number.
I stared at it until the letters blurred.
Somewhere in Chicago, a woman with my face had kidnapped my grandmother.
A woman born the same night as me.
A woman Teresa never knew existed.
My twin.
Agent Monroe took the phone from my hand.
“Don’t respond.”
“She has Susan.”
“We know.”
“She wants me.”
“We know that too.”
I looked toward Adrian Vale.
He sat handcuffed between two agents, blood drying near his temple, smiling as if the entire night had finally become entertaining.
“You knew about her.”
Adrian tilted his head.
“Of course.”
“What’s her name?”
He smiled wider.
“Clara.”
My stomach tightened.
“No.”
“That is what she has always been called.”
“That’s my name.”
“Exactly.”
I lunged toward him before Monroe caught me.
“You gave her my name?”
“Your name was never meant to belong to one person.”
I felt sick.
“It was a designation.”
“No.”
“A protected identity.”
“No.”
“A succession vessel.”
“STOP CALLING ME THAT!”
My voice echoed through the underground facility.
Adrian didn’t flinch.
He only watched me.
“You still think a name makes you real.”
I stared.
“What did you do to her?”
He leaned back.
“Raised her differently.”
“Where?”
“Many places.”
“Who raised her?”
“People I trusted.”
“Elizabeth?”
“No.”
“Jonathan?”
“No.”
“William?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Adrian’s expression became almost fond.
“Professionals.”
My skin crawled.
“What kind of professionals?”
“Teachers.”
“Security specialists.”
“Psychologists.”
“Forgery experts.”
“Language instructors.”
I could barely speak.
“You trained her.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“For you.”
Silence.
Monroe’s face hardened.
“You spent twenty-eight years preparing one twin to replace the other?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Replace is such an ugly word.”
“What word would you use?”
“Complete.”
I stared at him.
“You’re insane.”
“Perhaps.”
“You separated us at birth.”
“Yes.”
“You told everyone she died.”
“Almost everyone.”
“Who knew?”
Adrian glanced toward Robert.
Dad looked devastated.
“I found out years later,” Robert said.
“When?”
“When you were nine.”
My chest tightened.
“You knew for nineteen years?”
“I knew there had been another baby.”
“Another baby?”
“I didn’t know she was alive.”
“You never told Teresa?”
“I had no proof.”
“You never told me?”
“You were nine.”
“And then ten.”
His face tightened.
“Clara.”
“And fifteen.”
“I was afraid.”
“There it is again.”
Robert lowered his eyes.
I turned back to Adrian.
“Why keep twins?”
He smiled.
“Redundancy.”
That single word made me hate him more than anything else he had said.
“We were backups.”
“One identity, two biological matches.”
Monroe muttered, “Jesus Christ.”
Adrian continued.
“Same birth date.”
“Same mother.”
“Similar DNA.”
“Similar appearance.”
“Two lives that could be converged if necessary.”
My stomach turned.
“You were experimenting.”
“No.”
“Planning.”
“For what?”
“For uncertainty.”
He looked toward the dead screens around us.
“Governments change.”
“Technology changes.”
“People betray you.”
“Systems fail.”
“But blood remains remarkably useful.”
I stared at him.
“So if I refused you—”
“She could become you.”
“If I died—”
“She could become you.”
“If she died?”
“You remained.”
I wanted to be sick.
Monroe stepped closer.
“Where is she taking Eleanor?”
Adrian shrugged.
“She’ll tell Clara.”
“You know.”
“Perhaps.”
Monroe grabbed his collar.
“You’re already facing enough charges to die in prison.”
Adrian smiled into her face.
“At my age, that isn’t the threat you think it is.”
Monroe released him in disgust.
Then my phone buzzed again.
A photograph.
Susan.
My grandmother sat in the passenger seat of a car.
Not tied.
Not bleeding.
She looked frightened, but physically unharmed.
Beside her, only part of the driver’s face was visible.
My face.
Another message:
SHE LIED TO BOTH OF US.
My fingers shook.
Then:
ASK HER WHICH BABY SHE CHOSE.
I looked at Adrian.
His smile disappeared.
That interested me.
“What does that mean?”
He said nothing.
“Which baby did Susan choose?”
Nothing.
I stepped closer.
“You finally don’t want to talk?”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Good.
I turned toward Robert.
“Dad.”
He looked pale.
“What happened the night I was born?”
“I told you what I knew.”
“No. You told me pieces.”
“Clara—”
“Two babies were born.”
His eyes closed.
“Yes.”
“Teresa didn’t know?”
“She was heavily sedated.”
“Why?”
Robert hesitated.
“Complications.”
“Or someone drugged her?”
He said nothing.
I looked at Adrian.
“Did you?”
Adrian smiled faintly.
“No.”
“Susan?”
Still nothing.
Then Marisol whispered:
“Caroline knew.”
Everyone turned.
I stared at her.
“What?”
Marisol stood near Daniel’s recovered files, pale from everything we had learned.
“My sister mentioned two newborns once.”
Susan’s sister.
Caroline Blake.
The woman who had been meant to receive me.
“You never said that.”
“I didn’t understand what she meant.”
“What did she say?”
Marisol closed her eyes, remembering.
“She called me the night before the fire.”
My pulse quickened.
“She said, ‘They lied about the second baby.’”
Nobody moved.
“What else?”
“She said Eleanor had made a choice she could never undo.”
My heart pounded.
“A choice between us.”
Marisol looked toward Adrian.
“I think so.”
I stared at him.
“What choice?”
He finally spoke.
“Eleanor believed one child could be saved.”
Cold moved through me.
“Which one?”
“You.”
My breath stopped.
Susan had chosen me.
And left my twin with Adrian.
“No.”
Adrian watched me carefully.
“She gave Robert the location of the child she wanted removed from the system.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“And my twin?”
“She stayed.”
“Why?”
Adrian’s eyes sharpened.
“Because Eleanor thought your sister was already mine.”
My hands shook.
“We were newborns.”
“She made a calculation.”
“A calculation?”
“She believed Robert could hide one child.”
“But not two.”
“And she picked me.”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
My twin had grown up under Adrian Vale because Susan decided I was the one worth saving.
No wonder she hated me.
I whispered:
“Did Susan ever try to get her back?”
Adrian looked away.
That told me enough.
“Did she?”
“Once.”
“When?”
“When the girls were five.”
“What happened?”
“She failed.”
“How?”
Adrian smiled again.
“I moved the child.”
“Where?”
“Europe.”
My breath caught.
“She grew up overseas?”
“Partly.”
“Does she speak English?”
“Better than you.”
I hated the casual pride in his voice.
“Does she know Teresa?”
“She knows everything about Teresa.”
“Does Teresa know her?”
“No.”
“Did you show my twin pictures of us?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Constantly.”
My skin prickled.
“You raised her watching me.”
“I raised her studying you.”
The photographs in my apartment.
Someone had documented my life for years.
Not only for the identity network.
For my twin.
“She saw every picture.”
“Yes.”
“She knew where I worked.”
“Yes.”
“My friends.”
“Yes.”
“My habits.”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Collins.”
“Yes.”
“My family.”
“Yes.”
“She knew Olivia was using my identity?”
“Yes.”
“And she let it happen?”
Adrian smiled.
“She hated Olivia.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because Olivia was occupying the life your sister believed belonged to her.”
My life.
A life everyone seemed to believe they owned except me.
My phone rang.
Video call.
From my own number.
Monroe signaled the agents to trace it.
I answered.
My face appeared.
It was like looking into a mirror that had learned to hate me.
Same eyes.
Same jaw.
Same nose.
But differences emerged quickly.
Her hair was shorter.
Her cheekbones sharper.
A tiny scar crossed her right eyebrow.
Her expression was colder than mine.
Susan sat beside her.
“Hello, Clara.”
I swallowed.
“What do I call you?”
She smiled.
“Clara.”
“No.”
“That bothers you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“What name did Adrian give you?”
“Clara Bennett.”
“What did people call you when you were a child?”
“Whatever was required.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
“You don’t have another name?”
She stared.
“No.”
Adrian had raised a child without even giving her something of her own.
I softened my voice.
“You deserve one.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Don’t pity me.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’m angry for you.”
She laughed.
“You don’t get to be angry for me.”
“Why?”
“Because you got the father.”
I looked at Robert.
“You got the house.”
“You got birthdays.”
“You got school pictures.”
“You got Christmas.”
“You got a mother who tucked you in, even if she was lying.”
Her voice cracked slightly.
“You got Ethan bossing you around.”
“You got Olivia stealing your clothes.”
“You got family dinners.”
“You got to hate your life because at least you had one.”
I couldn’t answer.
She continued.
“I got training rooms.”
“Locked apartments.”
“Different countries.”
“Different teachers.”
“No friends unless they were approved.”
“No birthday unless it served a record.”
My eyes burned.
“I’m sorry.”
“DON’T.”
Susan flinched beside her.
My twin looked at our grandmother.
“Tell her.”
Susan whispered, “Please.”
“Tell her what you did.”
Susan began crying.
My twin raised her voice.
“TELL HER.”
Susan looked into the camera.
“Clara.”
“Which one?” my twin asked bitterly.
Susan closed her eyes.
I whispered:
“Tell me.”
“The night you were born…”
Her voice shook.
“Adrian had already arranged separate futures.”
“For both of us?”
“Yes.”
“One child would go to the Blakes.”
“That was me.”
“Yes.”
“And the other?”
“Adrian intended to keep her.”
My twin stared at Susan.
“Say why.”
Susan sobbed.
“Because she was healthier.”
I froze.
“What?”
Susan looked at me.
“You were born smaller.”
“How much smaller?”
“Almost three pounds.”
Premature.
Weak.
“Doctors thought you might have complications.”
“Yes.”
“And she was healthy.”
“Yes.”
My twin laughed bitterly.
“So Eleanor gave the broken one away.”
Susan shook her head.
“No.”
“That’s what you did.”
“I thought the Blakes would love her.”
“You thought Adrian would value me.”
“I thought if I fought for both, he would kill us all.”
My twin stared.
“So you chose.”
“Yes.”
“Her.”
Susan cried.
“No.”
“YES.”
“I chose the child I believed I could actually get out.”
My twin’s face hardened.
“And left me with him.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
I didn’t know what to say.
No sentence could reach across twenty-eight years.
My twin looked at me.
“Do you know what he told me?”
“What?”
“That you were weak.”
I swallowed.
“That you were sickly.”
“That Robert took you because no one else wanted you.”
“That Teresa forgot you existed.”
“That Eleanor saved the better twin.”
Her eyes filled.
“And then every year he showed me pictures of you.”
“Why?”
“To remind me what weakness looked like.”
My throat closed.
“My birthday parties?”
“Yes.”
“My school awards?”
“Yes.”
“My graduation photos?”
“I saw the restaurant uniform you wore instead of a graduation gown.”
She knew everything.
“I saw Olivia take your university.”
“Did that make you happy?”
“No.”
“Did you ever want to help me?”
Her silence answered.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was waiting.”
“For what?”
“For Olivia to fail.”
“And then?”
“To take the identity back.”
My stomach tightened.
“You really planned to become me.”
“I was trained to.”
“Did you want to?”
“For years.”
“And now?”
She stared into the camera.
“I don’t know.”
That was the first crack.
Not rage.
Not certainty.
Confusion.
I grabbed it.
“You don’t have to become me.”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t.”
“I said don’t.”
“You can choose another name.”
“STOP.”
“You can choose anything.”
“You think it’s that simple?”
“No.”
“Twenty-eight years don’t disappear because you offer me a motivational speech.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“You’re right.”
That stopped her.
I continued.
“I don’t know what happened to you.”
“I only know people spent my whole life telling me what I owed them because of what they had suffered.”
Her expression changed slightly.
“I know what it feels like to be turned into something useful.”
She looked away.
I continued.
“Olivia was useful.”
“I was useful.”
“You were useful.”
“None of us were loved correctly.”
Susan started crying harder.
My twin snapped:
“Don’t make us the same.”
“I’m not.”
“You had choices.”
“Some.”
“I had orders.”
“Yes.”
“And now you want to tell me I’m free?”
“No.”
I took a breath.
“I want you to decide whether Adrian gets to keep giving you orders now.”
Her eyes shifted toward him on our side of the call.
Adrian leaned forward.
“Enough.”
My twin looked at him through the screen.
Something moved behind her expression.
Adrian said:
“Bring Eleanor to the designated site.”
My twin didn’t answer.
“Clara-B.”
Her jaw tightened.
I heard it.
Clara-B.
Not even Clara to him.
A version.
A backup.
“Don’t call me that.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“What?”
My twin stared into the camera.
“I said don’t call me that.”
I almost smiled.
Adrian’s voice hardened.
“You know your designation.”
“My designation.”
“Yes.”
She laughed quietly.
“There it is.”
Adrian leaned toward the screen.
“You are becoming emotional.”
Susan whispered:
“She’s becoming human.”
My twin turned toward her.
Susan continued.
“That’s what he’s afraid of.”
Adrian shouted:
“ELEANOR.”
Susan looked directly at him.
“You never understood either of them.”
His face became cold.
“I understood enough.”
“You understood obedience.”
“I understood survival.”
“No.”
Susan shook her head.
“You understood ownership.”
My twin reached forward.
The camera shook.
For a second, I thought she would end the call.
Instead, she repositioned it.
Now we could see more of the room.
An old train depot.
Abandoned.
Concrete walls.
Broken windows.
Monroe looked at Alvarez.
Alvarez silently began identifying it.
My twin said:
“You want Susan?”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes.”
“You want Clara?”
“Yes.”
“You want control?”
“Yes.”
“And what do I get?”
He smiled.
“Your life.”
She laughed.
“I already have one.”
“No.”
“You have a temporary identity.”
That sentence destroyed whatever remained between them.
My twin’s face emptied.
“You still plan to erase me.”
Adrian didn’t answer.
She leaned closer.
“After you get Clara, what happens to me?”
“You’ll be relocated.”
“Under what name?”
Silence.
“What name?”
“Whatever is necessary.”
She smiled.
But there was no warmth in it.
“You were never going to let me be Clara.”
“I gave you more than a name.”
“You gave me a job.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
My twin looked at me.
“For once, we agree.”
I whispered:
“On what?”
“He doesn’t love either of us.”
Adrian stood abruptly.
“End this call.”
My twin ignored him.
“Clara.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sending you a location.”
Monroe mouthed no.
I kept my eyes on my sister.
“Why?”
“Because Susan needs to tell both of us the rest.”
“What rest?”
My twin looked at our grandmother.
Susan closed her eyes.
“She still hasn’t told you why Teresa never knew about me.”
I frowned.
“We know she was sedated.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“What happened?”
Susan whispered, “No.”
My twin looked at her.
“You’ve lied long enough.”
Then at me.
“Come alone.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone says that.”
“If Monroe comes through the front, Susan dies.”
Monroe shook her head.
My twin continued.
“If Adrian’s people come first, we all die.”
“Are you threatening Susan?”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
My twin looked toward a dark doorway behind her.
“We’re not alone.”
My skin prickled.
“Who’s there?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone followed us.”
A sound came from somewhere off camera.
Metal scraping.
My twin reached for a gun.
Susan looked frightened.
Adrian smiled.
“Too late.”
My twin stared toward the darkness.
“You sent someone.”
Adrian said nothing.
Then a man stepped into frame.
My heart stopped.
Judge William Collins.
No handcuffs.
No bloodied shoulder bandage.
Free.
Monroe spun toward the agents who were supposed to be holding him.
William smiled into the camera.
“Miss Bennett.”
My twin looked confused.
I whispered:
“How did he escape?”
Adrian laughed.
William raised a gun.
My twin moved instantly and put Susan behind her.
Interesting.
She protected her.
William said:
“Put the weapon down.”
My twin aimed back.
“No.”
His eyes flicked toward her face.
“You really are remarkable.”
“Don’t.”
“You look almost exactly like her.”
“Almost?”
William smiled.
“There are differences.”
My twin’s jaw tightened.
William continued:
“Adrian never told you?”
“Told me what?”
He looked into the camera at me.
“Clara.”
“Which one?” I asked.
William laughed.
“Fair.”
Then he said:
“You’re not identical twins.”
Silence.
My heartbeat changed.
“What?”
My twin stared at him.
William smiled.
“You were born the same night.”
“Same mother.”
“But not the same father.”
My stomach dropped.
“That’s impossible.”
“Not entirely.”
Monroe whispered:
“Heteropaternal superfecundation.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“Fraternal twins can, extremely rarely, have different biological fathers if two eggs are fertilized by sperm from different men.”
My entire body went cold.
William nodded.
“Exactly.”
My twin looked at Susan.
“Is he telling the truth?”
Susan began crying.
“Oh God.”
“IS HE?”
“Yes.”
I felt dizzy.
“So Adrian is my father…”
Susan looked at me.
“Yes.”
I turned toward the screen.
“And hers?”
William smiled.
“That is the secret Eleanor protected all these years.”
Adrian shouted:
“William.”
The judge laughed.
“Still afraid of the truth?”
My twin yelled:
“WHO IS MY FATHER?”
William’s eyes moved toward Adrian.
Then toward Susan.
Susan whispered:
“Robert.”
The world stopped.
I looked at Dad.
Robert Bennett.
He went completely white.
“No.”
Susan covered her face.
My twin stared.
“What did you say?”
Susan sobbed.
“Robert is your biological father.”
Robert staggered backward.
“That’s impossible.”
Susan looked into the camera.
“You never knew.”
His face collapsed.
“Teresa and I…”
He couldn’t finish.
I stared at him.
“You were with Teresa?”
“Once.”
“Before I was born?”
“Yes.”
“While she was seeing Jonathan?”
“She wasn’t seeing Jonathan then.”
“And Adrian?”
Robert’s face filled with horror.
“I didn’t know what he had done.”
My twin’s voice became almost childlike.
“You’re my father?”
Robert stared at the screen.
Tears filled his eyes.
“I didn’t know.”
“You raised her.”
She pointed toward me on her screen.
“You raised the wrong one.”
“No.”
Robert moved closer.
“No child was wrong.”
Her face twisted.
“You had your daughter in your house for twenty-eight years.”
“She is my daughter.”
“And what am I?”
Robert couldn’t answer fast enough.
My twin laughed bitterly.
“There it is.”
“No.”
“What am I?”
“My daughter.”
He said it.
Immediately this time.
The room became silent.
My twin stared at him.
Robert continued.
“If what Susan says is true… you’re my daughter.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“You don’t even know me.”
“No.”
“You didn’t look for me.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“You knew there might have been another baby.”
“I was told she died.”
“You believed them.”
“I was a coward.”
He didn’t soften it.
“I have been a coward more times than I can count.”
“But if I had known you were alive…”
His voice broke.
“I would have looked.”
My twin turned away.
William lifted his gun slightly.
“Touching.”
She snapped back toward him.
“Why are you here?”
“To remove unfinished problems.”
“Me?”
“You.”
“Susan.”
“And eventually Clara.”
Adrian spoke through our phone:
“William, stand down.”
William laughed.
“You don’t control anything anymore, Adrian.”
He looked at my twin.
“Kill Eleanor.”
She went still.
“What?”
“You spent your life blaming the woman who abandoned you.”
“She did.”
“Then finish it.”
Susan looked at her granddaughter.
No pleading.
No screaming.
Just sadness.
“I won’t ask you to forgive me.”
My twin’s gun trembled.
William smiled.
“Do it.”
She looked at Susan.
Then at me.
Then Robert.
Twenty-eight years of rage moved through her face.
Then she lowered the gun.
“No.”
William’s smile vanished.
“What?”
“I said no.”
Adrian stood on our side of the call.
I almost laughed.
Both men looked offended by the same word.
My twin continued.
“Everyone built my life around obeying.”
“Adrian.”
“Teachers.”
“Handlers.”
“Now you.”
She looked at Susan.
“If I ever kill you, it won’t be because some man told me to.”
Susan almost smiled through tears.
“That’s progress.”
William fired.
The gunshot exploded through the video.
I screamed.
The camera crashed sideways.
For a second all we saw was concrete.
Susan screamed.
My twin fired back.
More shots.
Monroe shouted:
“LOCATION?”
Alvarez yelled:
“OLD CENTRAL FREIGHT DEPOT, SOUTH YARD!”
We were moving before the call ended.
I heard my twin breathing.
Heavy.
Then her face appeared close to the fallen phone.
Blood ran down her arm.
“Clara.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Stay there.”
“No.”
“LISTEN.”
More gunfire behind her.
“William called someone.”
“How do you know?”
“He said the package was ready.”
“What package?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Susan shouted from somewhere:
“THE BABIES!”
The call distorted.
I froze.
“What babies?”
My twin looked confused too.
“Susan?”
Grandma crawled into frame.
Blood on her face, but alive.
“Twenty-eight years ago.”
She gasped.
“There was a third child.”
Nobody moved.
I stared at the screen.
“What?”
Susan coughed.
“Not Teresa’s.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The night you were born, another woman delivered a boy.”
My head spun.
“What does that have to do with us?”
Susan looked terrified.
“Adrian switched the records.”
Adrian suddenly rushed toward my phone.
Agents restrained him.
“STOP HER!”
Susan shouted:
“The boy was registered as dead.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian wanted him erased.”
“Who was he?”
Susan looked directly into the camera.
“William Collins’s son.”
My heart stopped.
“But Daniel Collins—”
“Was not William’s biological son.”
Silence.
Susan continued:
“Daniel was adopted into the Collins family afterward.”
My brain struggled to keep up.
“Then what happened to William’s biological son?”
Susan looked toward the darkness where William had disappeared.
“He was taken into the network.”
“For what?”
“To be raised under another identity.”
“What identity?”
Susan started sobbing.
“I didn’t know until tonight.”
Adrian screamed:
“SHUT UP!”
I stared at him.
He was terrified.
Susan whispered:
“The baby was given to Elizabeth.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
“She raised him later under another name.”
“Which name?”
Susan closed her eyes.
I already knew.
I didn’t want to.
“Which name?”
She whispered:
“Ethan.”
The world stopped.
Ethan Bennett.
My older brother.
Was not Elizabeth’s son.
Not Robert’s son.
He was William Collins’s biological child.
The judge was Ethan’s father.
That explained too much.
William protecting routes.
Ethan having access.
The judge manipulating the trial.
Susan continued:
“William thought the child died.”
I looked at the live video.
William had disappeared from frame.
“He just learned?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“From the original archive.”
My stomach turned.
The vault.
He had seen something before it burned.
That was why he had broken out.
Not only to save himself.
To find Ethan.
I turned toward Adrian.
“You knew.”
He smiled no longer.
“You took William’s son and gave him to Elizabeth.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Leverage.”
Of course.
Always leverage.
I thought of Ethan.
The brother who had bullied me.
Protected Olivia.
Built the identity business.
Ordered Michael’s death.
Ordered Daniel’s death.
The monster of our family.
And now another victim of Adrian’s design.
That didn’t excuse him.
But it explained the strange loyalty between Ethan and the system.
He had been born into it too.
Monroe’s radio crackled.
“Agent Monroe.”
“What?”
“Ethan Bennett’s medical transport has been intercepted.”
My stomach dropped.
“By whom?”
“Unknown.”
Adrian started laughing.
I looked at him.
“William.”
Adrian nodded.
“He found his son.”
My twin’s voice came through the damaged phone.
“Clara.”
I looked back.
“What?”
“William left.”
“With Susan?”
“No.”
“Then where?”
She turned the camera toward the doorway.
His car was gone.
“He’s going for Ethan.”
Monroe ordered every unit available to locate them.
My twin pressed a hand against her wounded arm.
“I’m taking Susan somewhere safe.”
“No.”
“You don’t trust me?”
I stared at my own face.
I should have said no.
Instead:
“I don’t know.”
She nodded slowly.
“Fair.”
“What do I call you?”
She looked away.
“What?”
“I’m not calling you Clara-B.”
Something shifted in her eyes.
“Then don’t call me anything.”
“You deserve a name.”
“I’ll pick one when this is over.”
“Okay.”
She almost smiled.
“Okay.”
The call ended.
Agent Monroe shoved Adrian toward an armored vehicle.
“We move.”
“Where?”
“To Ethan.”
“How do we find William?”
“We don’t have to.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
Monroe showed me a traffic-camera hit.
William’s vehicle.
Heading west.
Another camera.
Then another.
Toward a familiar destination.
“Where is he going?”
Robert stared at the route.
Then whispered:
“The cabin.”
Lake Geneva.
The place where Michael’s remains had been found.
The place where Teresa’s purse had been discovered.
The place where the identity records had been hidden.
William was taking Ethan back to the family cabin.
Why?
Then Adrian started laughing again.
I turned.
“What’s funny?”
He looked at me.
“You still think Michael was the first body there.”
My stomach tightened.
“No.”
“Adrian.”
Monroe warned him.
He ignored her.
“William is going to discover what Ethan buried.”
“What?”
Adrian smiled.
“His mother.”
The air left the room.
“Whose mother?”
“William’s.”
My head spun.
“Ethan’s grandmother?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
Adrian looked at William’s disappearing vehicle feed.
“She discovered her grandson had been taken.”
“When?”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
“And Ethan killed her?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Adrian smiled.
“Elizabeth.”
The woman who raised us.
Again.
Robert stared.
“That’s not possible.”
“Oh, Robert.”
Adrian laughed.
“You never knew half of what your wife did.”
I felt exhausted beyond anger.
“What did Elizabeth do with the body?”
“The ravine.”
My mind snapped back.
Teresa’s supposed fall.
The ravine behind the cabin.
Everyone had assumed Teresa might have been buried there.
But the remains could belong to someone else.
William’s mother.
The judge was taking Ethan there because he had learned the truth.
Not a reunion.
A reckoning.
Monroe ordered helicopters.
Then my phone buzzed.
New message.
Not from my twin.
From Olivia.
I stared.
“How does Olivia have a phone?”
Adrian smiled again.
Of course.
I opened it.
A photograph.
Ethan inside a vehicle.
Unconscious.
William driving.
Olivia sat in the back.
My stomach dropped.
She was with them.
Message:
I’M DONE RUNNING FOR ETHAN.
I frowned.
Then:
BUT I NEED TO KNOW ONE THING BEFORE I TURN MYSELF IN.
Another:
DID HE ORDER MICHAEL’S DEATH BECAUSE MICHAEL FOUND THE NETWORK…
OR BECAUSE MICHAEL FOUND OUT WHO ETHAN REALLY WAS?
My heartbeat changed.
Of course.
Michael had been digging through family records.
He might have discovered Ethan’s true parentage.
I typed despite Monroe trying to stop me:
WHAT DID MICHAEL TELL YOU?
Olivia replied:
HE SAID ETHAN WASN’T OUR BROTHER.
Then:
HE SAID ETHAN WAS THE REASON JUDGE COLLINS NEVER LET OUR FAMILY FALL TOO FAR.
I looked at Monroe.
William had protected Ethan without knowing he was his biological son?
Or perhaps some instinct.
Some old arrangement.
Then Olivia sent:
MICHAEL FOUND A DNA REPORT.
HE HID A COPY.
WHERE?
I typed.
Her answer:
WITH HIS BODY.
The cabin.
Michael had hidden evidence where he knew it might survive.
Maybe Ethan never found it.
Maybe William knew now.
We raced toward Lake Geneva.
Adrian remained under heavy guard in another convoy.
Robert came because Monroe wanted him available to identify the property and because I refused to let him disappear again.
Mr. Collins—Daniel—had been recovered alive, and Monroe ordered him nowhere near William.
The ride felt endless.
My mind kept returning to my twin.
No name.
No childhood.
No place.
And yet for the first time, she had disobeyed Adrian.
Maybe that was enough for one night.
At 4:07 a.m., we approached the cabin.
Police vehicles remained dark half a mile away.
Helicopters stayed back.
Monroe wanted William unaware.
We moved through wet trees.
Dawn hadn’t come yet.
The cabin stood black against the lake.
One light burned inside.
A vehicle parked outside.
William’s.
Another vehicle behind it.
Olivia’s.
Monroe whispered:
“They’re both here.”
Then we heard shouting.
A man.
William.
“WAKE UP!”
A crash.
Ethan’s voice answered.
“What the hell?”
We moved closer.
Through the window, I could see them.
Ethan tied to a chair.
William standing over him.
Olivia near the doorway holding a gun but not pointing it at anyone.
William shouted:
“WHO WAS YOUR MOTHER?”
Ethan laughed.
“The woman you arrested.”
“Elizabeth is not your mother.”
Ethan’s expression changed.
“What?”
William threw a file at him.
Papers scattered.
A DNA report.
“Read it.”
Ethan stared.
Then looked up.
“No.”
William’s face broke.
“You are my son.”
Silence.
Olivia covered her mouth.
Ethan laughed.
Then laughed harder.
“No.”
“It’s true.”
“You’re insane.”
“I saw the birth file.”
“Adrian forged thousands of files.”
“I ran my own DNA comparison.”
That stopped Ethan.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
William pulled a small evidence bag from his pocket.
“You left blood at the annex.”
Ethan went pale.
William whispered:
“Ninety-nine point nine percent probability.”
Ethan stared at him.
The monster who had terrified me my whole life suddenly looked like a lost child.
“No.”
William stepped closer.
“I thought you died.”
Ethan’s eyes filled with rage.
“Then you were lucky.”
“Ethan—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“It is your name.”
“No.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Apparently nobody in this family has a name.”
I understood that sentence too well.
William knelt.
“Adrian took you from me.”
“Elizabeth raised me.”
“She used you.”
“So did you.”
William froze.
“I didn’t know.”
“You protected me anyway.”
“What?”
Ethan looked at him.
“You think I never noticed?”
“The court orders that disappeared.”
“Investigations that stalled.”
“Deals that got easier whenever your name was nearby.”
William looked confused.
“I thought Elizabeth asked favors because of the network.”
Ethan smiled sadly.
“Maybe blood is useful after all.”
William reached toward him.
Ethan pulled back.
“Don’t touch me.”
Then Olivia spoke.
“Michael knew.”
Both men looked at her.
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“What?”
“Michael found the DNA file.”
“I know.”
“That’s why you had him killed.”
William’s face changed.
“You killed Michael Grant?”
Ethan stared at Olivia with hatred.
“Shut up.”
William stood.
“Did you?”
“Michael was a threat.”
“To the network?”
Ethan said nothing.
William whispered:
“To me?”
“No.”
“To your connection to me?”
Ethan laughed.
“You really think I cared who my father was?”
“Yes.”
“Then you don’t know me.”
Olivia stepped closer.
“You cared enough to kill him.”
Ethan snapped:
“I killed him because he was going to expose everything!”
“Everything includes this.”
“He found Teresa.”
“He found Clara.”
“He found Adrian.”
“He found you.”
William stared at his son.
“What exactly did you order?”
Ethan looked toward the floor.
“Luis handled it.”
“Did you order Michael’s death?”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
William hit him.
Hard.
Olivia screamed.
Monroe whispered:
“Move.”
Agents surrounded the cabin.
But before they entered, Ethan started laughing again.
William stared.
“What?”
Ethan lifted his bloody mouth.
“You came all the way here because you learned I’m your son.”
“Yes.”
“And because you think your mother is in the ravine.”
William froze.
Ethan smiled.
“You really don’t know.”
My skin crawled.
“Know what?” William asked.
Ethan looked toward the back door.
“She isn’t in the ravine.”
“Where is she?”
Ethan’s smile widened.
“In the wall.”
Everyone froze.
William’s face drained.
“What wall?”
Ethan nodded toward the fireplace.
“The cabin.”
Robert beside me whispered:
“No.”
William slowly turned toward the stone fireplace.
Ethan continued:
“Elizabeth told me when I was sixteen.”
“She said the old woman came looking for me.”
“She recognized me.”
“Asked too many questions.”
William started shaking.
“What did Elizabeth do?”
“She hit her.”
“Then panicked.”
“Then Adrian helped.”
My stomach twisted.
Adrian again.
“The body was sealed behind the original fireplace.”
William stared at the wall.
His mother.
Twenty-six years.
Ten feet from rooms where our family had vacationed.
William’s rage transformed into something terrifyingly calm.
He turned back to Ethan.
“And you knew?”
“Since sixteen.”
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t know she was your mother.”
“You knew she was someone’s mother.”
Ethan flinched.
For once, there was nothing he could say.
William raised his gun.
Monroe moved.
“FEDERAL AGENTS!”
Glass shattered.
Agents stormed the cabin.
Olivia immediately dropped her weapon.
Ethan ducked.
William spun toward the door.
Then his gun returned to Ethan.
“My son or not—”
“DROP IT!”
William’s hand shook.
Ethan looked at him.
“If you shoot me, you’ll become exactly what you spent your life pretending you weren’t.”
William laughed brokenly.
“I stopped pretending years ago.”
He pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
Click.
Empty.
Olivia stared at him.
Then quietly held up the magazine.
She had removed it.
William looked at her in disbelief.
Olivia shrugged.
“I’ve had enough fathers deciding who dies.”
Monroe tackled William.
Agents cuffed him.
Ethan remained tied to the chair.
He looked at Olivia.
“You betrayed me.”
She laughed.
“You taught me.”
Then she looked toward the broken window.
At me.
Our eyes met.
For once, she didn’t ask me to help.
Didn’t ask me to forgive.
Didn’t ask me to save her.
She simply lowered her head.
Agents began breaking through the fireplace wall.
Stone by stone.
Dust filled the cabin.
Then someone shouted.
“We have remains.”
William stopped fighting.
Everything left his face.
He stared at the opening.
A skeleton wrapped in decayed fabric.
A small locket still around the neck.
William whispered:
“Mom.”
Nobody spoke.
Even Ethan looked away.
Then an agent found something else behind the wall.
A metal tube.
Sealed.
“What is that?”
William looked confused.
Ethan did too.
They hadn’t known.
Monroe opened it carefully.
Inside was a rolled packet.
Plastic protected it from moisture.
A letter.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed a newborn boy.
Ethan.
Written beneath:
WILLIAM’S SON — ALIVE.
The letter was addressed to William Collins.
From his mother.
She had found Ethan.
She had been trying to tell him.
William read the first lines and broke down.
But another document was inside.
A laboratory report.
Not Ethan’s.
Michael Grant’s DNA report.
My heart stopped.
“How did that get there?”
Olivia stared.
“It shouldn’t.”
Monroe unfolded it.
Michael’s DNA compared against someone else.
MATCH: FIRST-DEGREE BIOLOGICAL RELATIONSHIP.
Name:
CAROLINE BLAKE.
Marisol gasped.
“Caroline?”
Michael Grant.
The man Olivia married.
The man Susan raised.
Was biologically related to Caroline Blake.
The woman killed in the fire.
Marisol stepped forward, pale.
“That’s impossible.”
Monroe kept reading.
Probability:
MATERNAL RELATIONSHIP — 99.98%.
Silence.
Michael Grant was Caroline Blake’s biological son.
Not adopted randomly.
Not a stranger.
Caroline had another child.
Marisol whispered:
“She never told me.”
Then I understood.
Michael wasn’t just another victim who married into the network.
He had been born into its aftermath.
Daniel and Michael.
Both Caroline Blake’s children?
Marisol shook her head.
“No. Daniel was Thomas’s nephew.”
I stared.
“What?”
Another lie.
Daniel wasn’t Caroline’s son either.
The family tree collapsed again.
“What was Daniel?”
Marisol looked terrified.
“My sister and Thomas had no biological children.”
“But you said Daniel survived the fire.”
“I was told he did.”
“By who?”
Susan.
Of course.
Marisol’s face changed as she realized it too.
“We need Eleanor.”
My phone buzzed.
My twin.
A location.
No message.
Monroe checked.
A motel outside Milwaukee.
We left William, Ethan, and Olivia under armed custody while forensic teams opened the rest of the wall.
At dawn, we reached the motel.
Room 14.
Door unlocked.
Inside, Susan sat on the bed.
Alive.
My twin stood by the window.
Gun on the table.
She raised both hands when Monroe entered.
“I’m not fighting.”
I stared at her.
“What happened?”
She looked at Susan.
“She finally told me.”
“Told you what?”
Susan’s face was gray.
“The children.”
My stomach tightened.
“Michael.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“Who were they?”
Susan began crying.
“Caroline and Thomas didn’t want to buy Clara because they couldn’t adopt.”
“What?”
“That story was another cover.”
“Then why did they want me?”
“They were part of the escape plan.”
I stared.
“What escape plan?”
“For Teresa.”
My breath stopped.
“Caroline was going to help Teresa disappear with her babies.”
Both of us.
Susan nodded.
“The payment records were staged so Adrian would believe it was a sale.”
“So Caroline wasn’t buying me.”
“She was helping my mother escape.”
“Yes.”
Everything shifted.
Caroline Blake had not been a buyer.
She had tried to save Teresa.
That was why Adrian killed her.
“And Michael?”
Susan looked down.
“Caroline’s biological son.”
“Where was he during the fire?”
“With me.”
“You took him.”
“I saved him.”
“Then raised him as Susan Grant’s son.”
“Yes.”
“Did Michael know?”
“Eventually.”
“And Daniel?”
Susan’s hands began shaking harder.
“Daniel was not Caroline’s.”
“Then whose?”
She looked at my twin.
My twin already knew.
I could see it.
“Tell me.”
Susan whispered:
“Daniel was Teresa’s.”
The world stopped.
“No.”
“Teresa had another child?”
“Not after you.”
“Before.”
I felt dizzy.
“She was sixteen.”
Susan covered her face.
“Before Adrian.”
“Who was the father?”
Susan looked at Robert.
He had followed us in.
His face went white.
“No.”
My heart stopped.
“Dad?”
Susan nodded.
“Robert.”
Silence.
Daniel Ramirez.
The man Olivia killed.
The man who died trying to expose the network.
Was Robert Bennett’s son.
My twin’s full brother.
My maternal half brother.
Robert staggered back.
“No.”
Susan sobbed.
“Teresa was sixteen. Robert was eighteen.”
“She got pregnant.”
“Her father found out.”
“Adrian?”
“No. Before Adrian entered her life.”
“What happened to the baby?”
“Elizabeth arranged a false stillbirth.”
My stomach twisted.
“She stole him too.”
“Yes.”
“Where did he go?”
“To a family connected to the network.”
“The Ramirezes?”
“Eventually.”
Susan nodded.
“When his first placement collapsed, Marisol took him.”
“So Marisol really became his mother later.”
“Yes.”
Robert’s face collapsed.
“I had a son.”
Susan whispered:
“Yes.”
“And nobody told me.”
“Yes.”
He sat down.
Tears filled his eyes.
“The man whose picture was in court…”
His voice broke.
“Daniel.”
My brother.
The victim.
The entire trial had begun with my sister Olivia killing our brother Daniel.
None of us knew.
Except maybe Ethan.
Except maybe Adrian.
My twin whispered:
“Adrian knew.”
I turned.
“How?”
“He told me last year.”
My stomach dropped.
“You knew Daniel was our brother?”
“Yes.”
“Before he died?”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN HIM?”
She flinched.
“Because Adrian said Daniel was trying to destroy the only life I had.”
“You let him die?”
“No.”
“Did you know Olivia was going after him?”
“No.”
“Did you know Ethan wanted him stopped?”
“I knew Daniel was investigating.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“I swear I didn’t know he would be killed.”
My anger burned.
“You had his name.”
“I had hundreds of names.”
“He was our brother.”
“I didn’t know what that word meant.”
That stopped me.
She looked at Robert.
“You ask why I didn’t save a brother I had never met.”
Her voice cracked.
“No one ever saved me.”
Robert looked devastated.
“That doesn’t make what happened to Daniel okay.”
“No.”
She wiped her face.
“It doesn’t.”
Susan suddenly reached into her coat.
Monroe raised her weapon.
“Hands!”
Susan pulled out a small recorder.
“That is why I brought her here.”
I stared.
“What?”
Susan placed it on the bed.
“Your twin took me because she wanted proof Adrian had lied about her childhood.”
“And?”
“I had it.”
“What’s on there?”
“Adrian’s private sessions with her.”
My twin’s face hardened.
“You recorded him?”
“For years.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Of course.
Susan pressed play.
Adrian’s voice.
“You must never approach Clara.”
My twin, younger:
“Why?”
“Because she is unstable.”
My stomach tightened.
Another recording.
“Robert hates the other child.”
Lie.
Another.
“Teresa chose Clara and abandoned you.”
Lie.
Another.
“If Clara dies, you inherit everything.”
My twin closed her eyes.
Another.
“If Daniel Ramirez learns who you are, he will expose you.”
Then my twin’s voice:
“Should I stop him?”
Adrian answered:
“No.”
A pause.
“Ethan will.”
We all froze.
My twin stared.
“I forgot that.”
Susan shook her head.
“You were drugged during many sessions.”
My skin crawled.
“What?”
Adrian had chemically conditioned her.
Susan continued playing.
Adrian:
“Ethan has become unreliable.”
“Daniel will force him into action.”
My twin:
“What happens if Daniel dies?”
Adrian:
“Then Clara becomes useful.”
My blood ran cold.
He had anticipated the trial.
Maybe not the exact accident.
But the chain.
Adrian had manipulated Ethan into seeing Daniel as a threat.
Then manipulated my twin into staying away.
He had built collision courses and waited.
I whispered:
“He wanted Daniel dead.”
Susan nodded.
“And he wanted me accused.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the trial forced every branch of the family into one courtroom.”
I stared.
“He wanted the network exposed?”
“Partially.”
“Why?”
My twin answered:
“To activate succession.”
Exactly.
He needed me to open the vault eventually.
Maybe every catastrophe had been engineered to push me there.
Michael discovering Olivia.
Daniel investigating.
Olivia’s hit.
My trial.
The evidence.
The archive.
All roads led to me.
I felt sick.
“He planned almost everything.”
Susan shook her head.
“Not everything.”
“What didn’t he plan?”
“You.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“He spent twenty-eight years predicting what you would do based on your family’s description of you.”
“Quiet.”
“Forgiving.”
“Easy to pressure.”
“She always does.”
“Yes.”
Susan looked at me.
“He thought you would plead guilty.”
“But I didn’t.”
“No.”
“That was the first break.”
My twin stared at me differently.
“Why did you say not guilty?”
I looked at her.
“Because I finally got tired.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
She almost laughed.
“Twenty-eight years of planning destroyed because you were tired.”
“For once, being exhausted helped.”
A tiny smile appeared on her face.
Then my phone buzzed.
One notification.
From the federal dissolution system.
ASSET RESTITUTION READY.
BENEFICIARY ACTION REQUIRED.
Monroe looked at me.
“This is the next step.”
“How?”
“You’ll have to decide where the seized network assets go.”
My twin stared.
“Two hundred eighty-seven million.”
“Maybe more.”
Robert looked at me.
“What will you do?”
I didn’t need time.
“Return it.”
“To who?”
“To victims.”
“Families.”
“People whose identities were stolen.”
“Scholarship funds.”
“Funeral costs.”
“Legal fees.”
“Whatever can be traced.”
Susan stared.
“And what about what’s left?”
I thought about Daniel.
Michael.
Teresa.
My twin.
Everyone whose life had been treated as inventory.
“Build something that gives people their names back.”
Nobody spoke.
My twin looked at me.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“You’d give all of it away?”
“It was never mine.”
Adrian had spent his life believing ownership was the same thing as power.
Maybe the only way to beat him permanently was to refuse ownership.
My twin stared at the floor.
Then whispered:
“I want a name.”
I looked at her.
“Pick one.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You pick something you like.”
“What if I pick wrong?”
I almost smiled.
“You can change your mind.”
She looked at me like I had offered her something impossible.
“You can do that?”
“Yes.”
Susan started crying again.
My twin thought for several seconds.
Then looked toward the morning light coming through the motel curtain.
“June.”
“What?”
“I was born in June.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
A small smile.
“But nobody ever let me have anything connected to the day except your name.”
I smiled back.
“June.”
She tested it.
“June Mercer.”
Susan looked up.
My twin shook her head.
“No.”
“June Bennett?”
She looked toward Robert.
He held his breath.
She hesitated.
Then:
“June Bennett.”
Robert broke.
He covered his face and cried.
June looked uncomfortable.
“I didn’t say you’re my father yet.”
Robert laughed through tears.
“Fair.”
“But I might let you try.”
He nodded.
“I’ll take that.”
For the first time all night, something felt almost human.
Then Agent Monroe’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
She listened.
“Are you certain?”
Then she looked at me.
“What happened?”
Monroe ended the call.
“Adrian Vale never reached federal detention.”
Silence.
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“His transport convoy was attacked.”
“Is he alive?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who attacked it?”
“No identification.”
June immediately stood.
“He escaped.”
Monroe shook her head.
“We found blood.”
“His?”
“Unknown.”
Susan looked terrified.
“If Adrian escaped, he’ll come for Clara.”
June looked at me.
“No.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“He won’t.”
“How do you know?”
June’s face went pale.
“Because there’s one person Adrian fears more than Clara.”
“Who?”
She looked at Susan.
Susan whispered:
“No.”
June continued:
“The person who taught him how to disappear.”
My skin prickled.
“Who taught Adrian?”
Susan covered her mouth.
“His mother.”
I stared.
“Adrian’s mother is alive?”
Susan said nothing.
June nodded.
“I met her.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Where?”
“Switzerland.”
“What did Adrian call her?”
“Never by name.”
“What did she call herself?”
June looked directly at me.
“Mrs. Vale.”
“That tells us nothing.”
June shook her head.
“That wasn’t the important part.”
“What was?”
“She told me Adrian stole the network from her.”
Susan sat down suddenly.
“No.”
“What?”
Susan looked sick.
“The identity system existed before Adrian.”
I stared.
“You said you created the first stolen identity to escape him.”
“I created mine.”
“But someone taught Adrian.”
Susan nodded slowly.
“His mother ran forged documents during the war.”
“What war?”
“Europe.”
“Displaced people.”
“Refugees.”
“People who needed new papers to survive.”
My stomach turned.
Another origin.
Another generation.
It had started as survival.
Then became business.
Then empire.
June reached into her pocket.
“She gave me something.”
A small silver coin.
A crown stamped on one side.
The same symbol from the black cabinet.
“The Patron symbol.”
June shook her head.
“No.”
“It belonged to her first.”
My pulse slowed.
Adrian hadn’t created the crown.
He inherited it.
“What did she say when she gave you that?”
June closed her eyes.
“Someday Adrian will mistake inheritance for ownership.”
I stared.
“And?”
“She said when that happens, give this to the daughter who says no.”
Every person in the room looked at me.
My skin went cold.
“She knew about me.”
“Yes.”
“She knew I would refuse him?”
“She hoped.”
June handed me the coin.
It was heavier than it looked.
On the edge were tiny engraved numbers.
Monroe inspected them.
“Coordinates.”
We entered them.
Europe.
Switzerland.
A mountain village near the Italian border.
Then another notification appeared on June’s old secure phone.
It activated by itself.
One message.
THE DAUGHTER SAID NO.
June’s face drained.
Another:
THE SON HAS FALLEN.
Another:
THE PATRON IS FINISHED.
I looked at Susan.
“What does that mean?”
She whispered:
“Adrian is dead.”
Monroe frowned.
“We don’t know that.”
Then a photograph arrived.
Adrian Vale.
Lying on a stone floor.
Eyes open.
Blood beneath him.
Dead.
Beside him lay the silver crown symbol.
My stomach dropped.
“Who killed him?”
Another message appeared.
NO ONE KILLED THE PATRON.
THE PATRON WAS RETIRED.
I felt cold.
Another:
CLARA BENNETT.
YOU HAVE INHERITED A WAR YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND.
Then:
BRING THE COIN TO SWITZERLAND.
I stared at it.
“No.”
June looked at me.
“What?”
“No more summons.”
“No more secret rooms.”
“No more family commands.”
I put the coin on the table.
“If she wants me, she can come here.”
Susan stared at me.
“You can’t talk to her like that.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know who she is.”
“That has been true about everyone I met today.”
June almost laughed.
Then the phone buzzed again.
A response.
As if the woman had heard me.
VERY WELL.
Another:
I’LL COME TO YOU.
Then a flight number.
Arrival:
Chicago.
Today.
11:40 a.m.
Passenger:
VICTORIA VALE.
Susan collapsed into the chair.
“No.”
“What?”
She looked at me.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Susan’s voice shook.
“Victoria Vale didn’t just teach Adrian.”
“She taught William.”
“Jonathan.”
“And me.”
My blood ran cold.
“She was the first founder?”
“No.”
Susan looked terrified.
“She was the person founders answered to.”
I stared at the silver coin.
“The real Patron.”
Susan nodded.
Adrian had not been the top.
He had inherited the title.
And the woman above him was coming to Chicago.
Then Robert’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
A pause.
“Who authorized that?”
He looked toward me.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
“What happened?”
“Teresa is gone.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
“She was transferred out of Northwestern twenty minutes ago.”
“Transferred where?”
“No destination listed.”
Monroe immediately started calling.
June stared at Susan.
Susan went white.
Then my phone buzzed one final time.
A photograph.
Teresa.
My mother.
Sitting inside a private jet.
Alive.
Wrapped in a blanket.
Beside her sat an elegant elderly woman with white hair.
Victoria Vale.
The true founder.
The true architect.
The woman smiled at the camera.
Then came the message:
I HAVE YOUR MOTHER.
NOT AS A HOSTAGE.
AS A WITNESS.
Another:
BECAUSE TERESA REMEMBERS WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT YOU AND JUNE WERE BORN.
I stared at June.
She stared at me.
Then the final message appeared:
AND WHEN SHE TELLS YOU THE TRUTH, ONE OF YOU WILL WISH SHE HAD NEVER SURVIVED………….
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 9…
