Chapter 5: Victoria’s Perfect Lie
The photograph stayed on my screen.
Emma.
Alive.
Holding a newborn.
Victoria standing beside her.
Three months after Lily's birth.
I stared at it until my eyes burned.
There was no reasonable explanation.
At least, none that didn't destroy everything I believed about my family.
I zoomed in.
Emma's face was unmistakable.
Her dark hair was pulled behind her shoulders.
She wore the cream sweater I remembered.
The same small silver necklace I had given her on our second anniversary.
And in her arms was a baby.
A baby wrapped in a white blanket.
On the blanket was a hospital bracelet.
I zoomed in again.
The name was blurry.
But I could make out the first letter.
L.
My heart hammered.
Lily.
I looked at my daughter.
She slept beside me.
Four years old.
Same dark eyes as Emma.
Same little crease beside her left eyebrow.
Same habit of curling her fingers when she slept.
My daughter.
The child I had raised.
The child I had held the night Emma died.
The child I had promised to protect.
But now a photograph was telling me that three months after Lily's birth, Emma had been alive.
And holding a baby.
I stood.
I needed air.
I walked toward the hospital window.
The city lights shimmered below.
“Mr. Carter?”
I turned.
Detective Morgan stood at the doorway.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
She glanced at my phone.
“What happened?”
I handed it to her.
She studied the photograph.
Her expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Someone sent it to me.”
“When?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“From who?”
“Unknown number.”
She looked at the metadata.
“Don't delete this.”
“I won't.”
“Did you know your wife was alive three months after Lily's birth?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Sarah looked back at the image.
“This changes the timeline.”
“What timeline?”
“The one in your wife's death certificate.”
I stared at her.
“What about it?”
“Emma Carter's official date of death is September fourteenth.”
“Yes.”
“Three months before this photograph.”
My throat tightened.
“So?”
“So either the photograph is fake…”
She paused.
“…or your wife's death certificate is wrong.”
I looked at Lily.
“What if both are true?”
Sarah didn't answer.
At 3:17 a.m., Robert arrived at the hospital.
He looked exhausted.
He carried a leather briefcase.
The moment he saw me, he walked over.
“You need to come with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I found Emma's sealed file.”
“Where?”
“In the courthouse archive.”
“You said it was inaccessible.”
“It was.”
“Then how did you get it?”
Robert looked at Detective Morgan.
“She helped.”
Sarah nodded.
“I obtained an emergency warrant.”
Robert opened his briefcase.
Inside was a thick folder.
“Everything Emma left.”
I opened it.
The first document was her will.
Normal.
The second was a property agreement.
The third was a medical report.
Then another.
Then another.
I flipped through them.
Nothing.
“Where is the letter?”
Robert handed me an envelope.
My name was written across it.
Daniel.
My hands trembled.
I opened it.
There were only three pages.
The first line made my heart stop.
If you're reading this, then Victoria has failed to keep the truth buried.
I looked at Robert.
Then continued.
I need you to understand something before you read the rest. I never abandoned you. I never abandoned Lily. And if someone tells you otherwise, they are lying.
My vision blurred.
I forced myself to continue.
The woman you call Victoria is not who she says she is.
I stopped.
Sarah leaned closer.
“Keep reading.”
I did.
She came into our lives because someone sent her.
My heart pounded.
I discovered the truth after Lily was born.
Another page.
There was another baby.
I stopped breathing.
Another baby.
The words seemed impossible.
I read the next line.
The hospital made a mistake.
I looked at Lily.
Then at the photograph.
Two girls were born that night.
My hands went numb.
Twins.
I continued.
One was mine. One was not.
The room spun.
Sarah took the letter from me.
“What does it say?”
I couldn't answer.
Robert read over her shoulder.
His face went pale.
I whispered:
“Lily has a twin.”
Robert looked at me.
“Apparently.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Daniel…”
“No.”
I stood.
“My daughter doesn't have a twin.”
The words sounded ridiculous even as I said them.
Emma had never told me.
The birth certificate listed one child.
The hospital records listed one child.
I had raised one child.
Where was the other?
I read the letter again.
Victoria knows where the other girl is.
My heart stopped.
Sarah looked at me.
“That's why she was watching Lily.”
“No.”
“Daniel…”
“She wanted something.”
“Or someone.”
I looked at the photograph.
Emma holding a baby.
Victoria beside her.
Three months after Lily's supposed birth.
I suddenly noticed something.
Emma wasn't looking at the baby.
She was looking at Victoria.
Her expression was terrified.
I zoomed in.
Victoria was smiling.
But her hand was gripping Emma's wrist.
Hard.
I could see the pressure in her fingers.
Emma was trying to pull away.
I felt sick.
“Victoria was controlling her.”
Sarah nodded.
“Looks like it.”
Robert flipped through the file.
“There may be more.”
He found another document.
A hospital discharge summary.
Date:
June 18.
Three months after Lily's birth.
Patient:
Emma Carter.
Status:
Alive.
I stared.
“That's impossible.”
Robert looked at me.
“It's official.”
I grabbed the paper.
“Then what happened on September fourteenth?”
Robert pulled another page from the folder.
A death certificate.
Name:
Emma Carter.
Date of death:
September fourteenth.
Cause:
Intracranial hemorrhage.
I stared at the two documents.
Alive in June.
Dead in September.
But something else was wrong.
The signature on the death certificate wasn't from the doctor listed in the hospital records.
I looked at Sarah.
“This was forged.”
She nodded slowly.
“It appears so.”
At 5:40 a.m., Lily woke.
She looked around.
“Daddy?”
I immediately went to her.
“I'm here.”
She rubbed her eyes.
“Are we going home?”
“Yes.”
“Is Mommy Victoria coming?”
“No.”
Lily relaxed.
“Good.”
The word hurt.
A child shouldn't be relieved that her stepmother wasn't coming home.
I crouched.
“Sweetheart, I need to ask you something.”
She nodded.
“Did Mommy Victoria ever show you pictures of another little girl?”
Lily's eyes widened.
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Where?”
“In her room.”
“What did the girl look like?”
“Like me.”
My heart stopped.
“Exactly like you?”
Lily nodded.
“Same eyes.”
“Same hair?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever meet her?”
“No.”
“What's her name?”
Lily thought.
“I don't know.”
“Did Victoria call her anything?”
She whispered:
“Anna.”
Robert looked at me.
Sarah wrote something down.
I felt dizzy.
Anna.
A twin.
A missing child.
And Victoria knew where she was.
But why?
I asked Lily:
“Did Mommy Victoria ever tell you where Anna lived?”
“She said Anna was waiting.”
“For what?”
“For Daddy.”
My blood went cold.
“Waiting for me?”
Lily nodded.
“Mommy Victoria said one day Daddy would have to choose.”
“Choose what?”
Lily looked frightened.
“She didn't tell me.”
I hugged her.
“That's okay.”
But it wasn't okay.
Not remotely.
We returned to Malibu after sunrise.
The police had secured the property.
Crime scene tape crossed the kitchen entrance.
The hidden room had been sealed.
The house no longer felt like home.
It felt like evidence.
I walked into my office.
The computer was still on.
The security footage was gone.
All of it.
Every file.
Deleted.
But I had already copied the recordings.
I opened the backup.
The man in the black hat appeared again.
This time, I noticed something.
His left hand.
A gold ring.
A small black stone.
I knew that ring.
My father used to wear one exactly like it.
But my father had been dead for twenty years.
I paused the video.
“Sarah.”
She entered.
I pointed.
“Look at his hand.”
She stared.
“Recognize the ring?”
“No.”
“I do.”
“Whose?”
“My father's.”
Sarah looked at me.
“You're saying your father is involved?”
“My father is dead.”
“Then someone owns the same ring.”
“Maybe.”
She studied the image.
“Could this man be Thomas Vale?”
“I don't know.”
Robert entered.
“Thomas Vale?”
“Yes.”
Robert's face changed.
“You found out.”
“What?”
Robert closed the door.
“I didn't want to tell you until I had proof.”
“Tell me now.”
He took out a photograph.
It showed a young man standing beside my father.
I stared.
The young man was Thomas Vale.
“Who is he?”
“Your father's private security officer.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“For how long?”
“Twenty-two years.”
“Until when?”
“The year your father died.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Why was he working for my father?”
Robert hesitated.
“Because your father was involved in something called the Carter Foundation Trust.”
I frowned.
“My father left that to me.”
“No.”
Robert shook his head.
“He didn't.”
“What do you mean?”
“The trust was created before you were born.”
I stared.
“For whom?”
“Your children.”
“My children?”
“Any biological children.”
My chest tightened.
“But I only have Lily.”
Robert didn't answer.
I understood.
The trust was created for two children.
Two.
Not one.
Twins.
I sat down.
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because your father sealed it.”
“Who has control of it?”
Robert looked at me.
“Victoria.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the alternative was screaming.
“Victoria?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She was named temporary trustee.”
“By whom?”
“Your father.”
I stared at him.
“My father never met Victoria.”
Robert looked away.
“That isn't entirely true.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Daniel…”
“What?”
“Your father knew Victoria before you did.”
The room went silent.
My mind raced through memories.
Victoria's first appearance.
The charity event.
The introduction.
Her knowing details about my family.
Her knowing Emma's favorite flowers.
Her knowing where I kept Lily's medical records.
Her knowing the layout of the house.
I had always called it intuition.
Maybe it wasn't.
Maybe she had been studying us long before she entered our lives.
I stood.
“Where is Victoria?”
“We don't know.”
“Find her.”
“We're trying.”
“No.”
I looked at Sarah.
“You need to find her before I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't know what she'll do when she realizes I know.”
Sarah nodded.
“We'll put out an alert.”
I turned toward the window.
Malibu was waking.
People were walking along the beach.
Cars were moving down the highway.
Normal life continued.
But mine had ended somewhere between a child's burned hands and a photograph of a dead woman holding a baby.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A woman's voice.
Soft.
Shaking.
“Daniel?”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
My knees nearly gave out.
“Who is this?”
A pause.
Then:
“It's me.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
The woman whispered:
“Emma.”
I couldn't breathe.
Sarah immediately reached for the phone.
I put it on speaker.
“Emma?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“I don't have much time.”
“Are you alive?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
The room spun.
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because they're watching.”
“Who?”
A pause.
Then:
“Victoria.”
I looked at Sarah.
“Where is Lily's twin?”
Silence.
Then Emma began crying.
Not loudly.
Just one broken breath.
“Daniel…”
“Yes?”
“Lily isn't the child they were looking for.”
“What?”
“Victoria didn't come for Lily.”
“Then who?”
Emma whispered:
“She came for you.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Then it rang again.
Same number.
I answered.
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then a man's voice.
“Mr. Carter.”
I knew it instantly.
The man from the recording.
Thomas Vale.
“You've been asking questions.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“You should stop.”
“Where is my wife?”
“She isn't your wife anymore.”
My jaw tightened.
“Where is Emma?”
A pause.
Then:
“You really don't understand, do you?”
“What?”
“Emma was never the target.”
“Then who was?”
The man laughed quietly.
“You were.”
The call ended.
I looked at Sarah.
“Trace it.”
She was already moving.
“I'm trying.”
My phone vibrated.
A photograph arrived.
I opened it.
It showed a woman standing on a beach.
Dark hair.
Cream sweater.
Silver necklace.
Emma.
Alive.
And beside her stood a little girl.
Four years old.
Dark hair.
Blue eyes.
She was holding the same stuffed rabbit Lily had been carrying all morning.
Under the photograph were four words:
One of them is yours.
I stared at the image.
Then at Lily.
May you like
For the first time since becoming a father, I was terrified of a question I had never imagined asking.
Which daughter had I raised?
