Chapter 2 - The Photograph That Should Never Have Existed
My mother was standing at the entrance to the ballroom.
At least, that was what I thought when I first saw her.
The woman wore a long black evening gown. Her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders, and her face was partially concealed by the shadows near the entrance.
She stood completely still.
Nobody spoke.
Then my father dropped the photograph.
"Catherine?"
The woman took another step forward.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I hadn't seen my mother in eleven years. My last memory of her was a pale face resting against a white pillow, surrounded by flowers and people who kept telling me she had gone somewhere better.
But the woman standing before me had the same eyes.
The same mouth.
Even the same slight tilt of her head.
"Mom?"
Adrian's fingers tightened around my arm.
"Don't."
I turned toward him.
"What?"
"Don't go to her."
"That's my mother!"
"Look carefully."
I looked again.
The woman stepped into the light.
And suddenly, I understood.
She wasn't my mother.
She was Margaret Collins.
My father's personal assistant.
The woman who had practically raised me.
Except Margaret wasn't wearing her usual conservative clothing. Her hair was loose, and she had removed the glasses she'd worn for as long as I could remember.
The resemblance was astonishing.
My father looked as though he'd seen a ghost.
Margaret walked toward us.
"I'm sorry, Richard."
My father stumbled backward.
"What have you done?"
Margaret ignored him.
She looked directly at me.
"Evelyn, sweetheart, we need to talk."
I stared at her.
"Why do you look like my mother?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because there's something about your mother you've never been told."
My father recovered first.
"Everyone, please return to your conversations."
Nobody moved.
He raised his voice.
"This is a private family matter!"
Several guests reluctantly turned away, although their attention remained fixed on us.
Harrison approached.
"Richard, the press is still outside. We need to control this."
Adrian gave him a cold look.
"That's what you've been doing for eleven years, isn't it?"
Harrison stopped.
"What are you talking about?"
"The hospital."
Harrison's expression changed.
I held up my phone.
"Would you like to explain this photograph?"
He glanced at the screen.
His face went pale.
"Where did you get that?"
"Someone sent it to me."
"Who?"
"That's what I'd like to know."
He reached toward my phone.
Adrian stepped between us.
"Don't touch her."
Harrison lowered his hand.
My father grabbed Margaret by the elbow.
"Come with me."
She pulled away.
"No."
It was such a small word.
But in twenty-four years, I had never heard Margaret openly defy my father.
"Margaret," he warned.
"No more."
She turned toward me.
"Your mother left something for you."
I glanced at the envelope.
"The photograph?"
"Something much more important."
My father shook his head.
"Don't do this."
Margaret's expression hardened.
"You had eleven years."
We moved into my father's private study.
Adrian insisted on accompanying me.
My father objected.
I refused to enter without him.
For once, my father discovered that ordering me around wasn't going to work.
Margaret closed the door.
Outside, the gala continued.
I could hear distant music and the muffled sound of guests discussing the spectacle they'd just witnessed.
Inside the study, nobody spoke.
Finally, I placed the photograph on my father's desk.
"Explain."
My father looked at Margaret.
She looked away.
"That photograph is misleading," he said.
"Then tell me what it means."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Your mother was seriously ill."
"I know."
"She needed specialized treatment."
"I know that, too."
"Not everything was documented publicly."
I stared at him.
"Are you telling me she didn't die?"
He closed his eyes.
For one terrible second, I thought he might say yes.
Instead, he whispered, "I don't know."
The room seemed to tilt.
"What?"
"I don't know what happened to her after she left the hospital."
I took a step backward.
"You told me she died."
"I believed she had."
"You held a funeral!"
His face twisted.
"Because that's what I was told!"
Adrian spoke for the first time.
"By Harrison's father."
My father looked up sharply.
"Be careful."
"Why? Because you might finally have to explain the agreement?"
"What agreement?" I demanded.
Nobody answered.
I turned toward Margaret.
She was crying silently.
"Please."
She opened her handbag.
Inside was the folded paper she'd taken from my dressing table.
She handed it to me.
It wasn't a receipt.
It was a handwritten note.
My mother's handwriting.
Margaret, if Richard ever announces Evelyn's engagement to a Montgomery, give her the necklace. Tell her to find the second photograph. She must know who she is before they take everything.
My hands began shaking.
"What does she mean?"
Margaret looked toward Adrian.
"Show her."
Adrian removed a second photograph from his jacket.
It showed my mother sitting on a hospital bed.
Two little girls stood beside her.
Identical little girls.
Both had my face.
I stopped breathing.
"No."
The word escaped before I could stop it.
Adrian placed the photograph on the desk.
I picked it up.
Two girls.
The same brown hair.
The same eyes.
One wore a blue dress.
The other wore yellow.
I remembered the blue dress.
I remembered wearing it on my thirteenth birthday.
But I had absolutely no memory of the other girl.
"Who is she?"
Margaret covered her mouth.
My father stared at the photograph.
Then he whispered something that made my skin crawl.
"That's impossible."
Adrian looked at him.
"Is it?"
My father stood.
"Get out of my house."
"I'm not leaving without Evelyn."
"She's my daughter!"
"Then start treating her like one."
I slammed the photograph onto the desk.
"STOP!"
Both men fell silent.
I pointed at the second little girl.
"Who is she?"
Margaret slowly sat down.
"Your sister."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"My what?"
"Your twin sister."
I looked at my father.
He shook his head.
"No. Evelyn was an only child."
Margaret's voice cracked.
"That's what they wanted you to believe."
"Who?"
She looked at Harrison.
He had followed us into the study without anyone noticing.
"The Montgomery family."
Harrison's expression hardened.
"Margaret, you need to stop talking."
Adrian moved closer to me.
I barely noticed.
My entire world had narrowed to the photograph in my hands.
A sister.
An identical twin sister.
Somewhere in the world, there might be another woman with my face.
A woman my family had erased from my life.
"Where is she?" I whispered.
Margaret looked down.
"I don't know."
I turned toward Adrian.
"Do you?"
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told me everything.
"You know where she is."
"Evelyn—"
"Tell me!"
He looked at my father.
Then at Harrison.
Finally, he said, "I know where she was yesterday."
My heart pounded.
"The hospital?"
He nodded.
"The woman beside Harrison in the photograph wasn't your mother."
I stared at him.
"Then who was she?"
Adrian's answer was barely audible.
"Your sister."
I couldn't breathe.
For several seconds, the only sound was the ticking clock above my father's fireplace.
Then Harrison laughed.
It was a nervous, ugly sound.
"This is ridiculous."
Adrian turned toward him.
"Then explain why you visited her yesterday."
"I visit dozens of hospitals through our foundation."
"At two in the morning?"
Harrison stopped smiling.
My father looked between them.
"Harrison?"
"Richard, don't listen to him."
"Answer the question."
Harrison straightened his jacket.
"I was handling a private matter."
"Concerning my daughter?"
"Your daughter is standing right there."
Adrian stepped forward.
"Which one?"
Harrison's face went completely white.
I had never seen a man look so frightened.
And suddenly, something else occurred to me.
The engagement.
The charity gala.
My father's insistence that I marry Harrison.
My mother's warning.
She must know who she is before they take everything.
"What happens if I marry him?" I asked.
Nobody answered.
I looked at my father.
"What exactly did you promise the Montgomery family?"
He sat down heavily.
"Your mother established a trust before you were born."
"A trust?"
"It contained her inheritance and her shares in Whitmore Holdings."
"How much?"
My father swallowed.
"At its current valuation? Approximately eight hundred million dollars."
I stared at him.
"And?"
"The trust was designed to transfer to her children under specific conditions."
"Children?"
He looked at the photograph.
"Yes."
Adrian's voice was quiet.
"Both daughters."
I felt sick.
"So why was I supposed to marry Harrison?"
My father didn't answer.
But Harrison did.
"Because sometimes marriage is about protecting a family."
I turned toward him.
"Protecting it from what?"
He glanced at Adrian.
"People who want to destroy everything your father built."
Adrian smiled without amusement.
"Interesting choice of words."
He removed a small black flash drive from his pocket.
"I think Evelyn should hear what your father said at the hospital."
My father stood so abruptly that his chair struck the wall.
"Where did you get that?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the computer on my father's desk.
Harrison moved to intercept him.
I stepped between them.
"Play it."
"Evelyn," my father pleaded.
I looked directly into his eyes.
"Play it."
Adrian connected the flash drive.
A recording appeared on the screen.
The timestamp showed a date eleven years earlier.
The night before my mother's supposed death.
Adrian pressed play.
The video showed a hospital corridor.
My father stood outside a private room.
Harrison's father stood beside him.
Their voices were faint but understandable.
Then my father's younger voice filled the study.
"I agreed to protect Evelyn. I never agreed to what you did to her sister."
My knees nearly buckled.
Harrison lunged toward the computer.
Adrian blocked him.
The recording continued.
Harrison's father leaned closer to mine.
"Then you'd better make sure Catherine never tells either girl the truth."
The video suddenly froze.
A new notification appeared on the computer screen.
Someone had remotely accessed the flash drive.
Then every light in the study went out.
In the darkness, my phone vibrated.
A message appeared from the same unknown number.
Evelyn, don't trust the man standing beside you.
A second message followed.
Adrian Blackwood was there the night they took me.
And then a third.
I'm your sister. I'm outside your father's house.
Someone began pounding on the study door.
May you like
A woman's voice screamed my name.
"EVELYN! DON'T OPEN IT!"
