CHAPTER 12 — THE NIGHT LAUREN CAME BACK
“My head.”
My father's voice was barely audible.
“My daughter.”
I stared at him.
“Me?”
He nodded.
“You were six months old.”
James's expression hardened.
“Start from the beginning.”
My father looked toward the road.
“The night Rebecca disappeared, someone broke into the hospital.”
I felt a chill.
“What did they want?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because Rebecca had discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Victor Hale wasn't working alone.”
My father took a breath.
“There was another man.”
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“Your grandfather.”
My stomach dropped.
“My grandfather was dead.”
“He died six months later.”
I couldn't speak.
My father continued.
“Your grandfather had created a private network of lawyers, bankers, and security contractors. Victor was only one piece of it.”
“And Rebecca discovered them?”
“Yes.”
“What did she find?”
“Evidence that your grandfather had been stealing her inventions and moving the money through shell companies.”
James asked:
“How much?”
My father answered quietly.
“Eight million dollars was only the beginning.”
He opened the black ledger.
“The actual amount was over two hundred million.”
I stared at him.
“Two hundred million?”
“Yes.”
“And where did it go?”
“Offshore.”
“Who controlled it?”
“Victor.”
James shook his head.
“Then why did Rebecca need the trust?”
“Because she had one thing Victor couldn't access.”
“What?”
“The original patents.”
My father looked at me.
“And the proof that your grandfather had stolen them.”
I suddenly remembered my mother's words.
The evidence had been divided between the twins.
James understood.
“That's why the twins mattered.”
My father nodded.
“One daughter carried one half.”
“And the other?”
“The second half.”
“Where is she now?”
“We still don't know.”
A noise came from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
Lauren appeared.
She was holding a suitcase.
James immediately stepped in front of me.
“Where were you?”
“Outside.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Why?”
Lauren looked at me.
“I went back to the station.”
James's eyes narrowed.
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She opened the suitcase.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
And a small metal drive.
“I went to get this.”
James picked up the drive.
“What is it?”
“Victor's backup.”
My father stood.
“Where did you get it?”
“His office.”
My father stared at her.
“You broke into his office?”
Lauren nodded.
“I had to.”
James looked at the files.
“Why?”
Lauren's voice broke.
“Because Daniel called me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said Mom was alive.”
I froze.
“He knew where she was.”
James's expression became sharp.
“Where?”
Lauren shook her head.
“He wouldn't tell me.”
“What did he want?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
“He said I could trade myself for her.”
My heart tightened.
“Lauren…”
She looked at me.
“I almost did.”
James asked:
“Almost?”
She nodded.
“Then I found something.”
She opened a folder.
Inside was a photograph.
A hospital corridor.
December 24, 1998.
Two nurses.
Two bassinets.
And a man standing at the end of the hallway.
Daniel Hale.
But he was only a child.
I stared.
“How?”
Lauren pointed at another photograph.
A woman stood beside him.
My mother.
And beside my mother—
Rebecca.
My blood went cold.
“They knew each other.”
My father whispered:
“Yes.”
James looked at him.
“You knew?”
My father nodded.
“Your mother and Rebecca were friends before everything happened.”
“Then why did Mom hide her?”
“Because Rebecca believed someone had betrayed her.”
“Who?”
My father looked at the photograph.
“Margaret.”
My mother.
The room became silent.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Lauren whispered:
“She didn't betray Rebecca.”
“Then why?”
“Because Rebecca believed she did.”
My father explained.
“Rebecca thought Margaret had given Victor information about the twins.”
“But she didn't?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
My father looked at the metal drive.
“That's what the files will tell us.”
James inserted the drive into his laptop.
Folders appeared.
PROJECT NIGHTFALL.
PROJECT CHRISTMAS.
SUBJECT EMILY.
SUBJECT UNKNOWN FEMALE.
James opened the last folder.
A video file appeared.
Recorded twenty-eight years ago.
He clicked it.
The image was grainy.
A hospital room.
Rebecca sat on a bed.
She was badly injured.
In her arms was one baby.
My baby sister.
My breath caught.
Then the door opened.
My mother entered.
Rebecca looked up.
They argued.
We couldn't hear everything.
Then Rebecca handed the baby to my mother.
She said something.
James increased the volume.
Rebecca's voice became clear.
“Take her.”
My mother cried.
“I can't.”
“You have to.”
“What about Emily?”
Rebecca looked toward another bassinet.
Me.
“She stays with me.”
My heart stopped.
I looked at my father.
“That's me.”
He nodded.
The recording continued.
Rebecca kissed the baby.
“Protect her.”
My mother took the child.
Then Rebecca looked toward the camera.
Her face was full of fear.
“If I don't come back…”
She paused.
“Tell my daughters I loved them.”
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
I was crying.
My sister had been alive.
Rebecca had given her away willingly.
But then another file opened automatically.
A document appeared.
TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION.
Beneficiary:
Emily Vale.
Transfer recipient:
Margaret Walker.
Then below:
Secondary child: transferred to private guardian.
James looked at me.
“Your sister was deliberately hidden.”
“From Victor.”
“Yes.”
“From Elias?”
James paused.
“Maybe.”
I looked at the screen.
“What about Rebecca?”
My father whispered:
“She went back for the evidence.”
“Did she survive?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
My father reached into his pocket.
He pulled out an old photograph.
Rebecca standing beside a lake.
Alive.
Older.
The date was six years after the fire.
I stared.
“Where was this taken?”
“Montreal.”
James looked at it.
“When?”
“2004.”
“So she survived for years.”
“Yes.”
“What happened afterward?”
My father shook his head.
“She disappeared again.”
A new message appeared on the computer.
The drive had connected to a remote server.
Someone had accessed it.
James immediately disconnected it.
Too late.
A text appeared:
STOP LOOKING FOR REBECCA.
Then:
LOOK FOR HER DAUGHTER.
Then:
SHE IS CLOSER THAN YOU THINK.
Lauren stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
James looked at her.
“It means someone knows where the twin is.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Nobody spoke.
Then I heard breathing.
A woman's breathing.
Slow.
Weak.
I whispered:
“Rebecca?”
Silence.
Then a voice.
Not Rebecca.
My mother's.
“Don't trust your father.”
The line went dead.
I turned toward him.
He looked devastated.
“Why would she say that?”
My father didn't answer.
Then the front door opened.
Everyone froze.
My mother walked inside.
But she wasn't alone.
A woman stood beside her.
Older.
Thin.
Gray hair.
Scarred face.
Her eyes looked exactly like mine.
She stared at me.
I stared back.
Neither of us moved.
My mother whispered:
“Meet your sister.”
The woman stepped forward.
“Hello, Emily.”
I couldn't breathe.
She smiled sadly.
“My name is Anna.”
Then she looked at Emma.
And started crying.
“She's exactly like Rebecca.”
James immediately stepped between them.
Anna stopped.
“I don't want to hurt her.”
“Then why are you here?”
Anna looked at me.
“Because Rebecca is dying.”
May you like
The room went silent.
“And she wants to see both her daughters before midnight.”
