Chapter 3 - My Mother's Last Warning
"Don't open that door!" Adrian shouted.
The pounding grew louder.
"Evelyn! Please! They're coming!"
I stood frozen in my father's darkened study, clutching my phone as the woman's desperate voice echoed through the other side of the door.
My sister.
The sister I had never known existed.
The sister whose existence my family had apparently spent eleven years trying to erase.
And according to the messages on my phone, the man standing beside me had been involved in her disappearance.
I slowly turned toward Adrian.
"Who are you?"
His expression changed.
"Evelyn, listen to me."
"Did you take my sister?"
"No."
"Then why does she say you were there?"
He glanced toward the door.
"Because I was."
My stomach dropped.
Behind me, my father made a strangled sound.
"Adrian, don't."
I looked between them.
"You knew?"
My father didn't answer.
The woman outside screamed again.
"EVELYN! GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
I reached for the door.
Adrian caught my wrist.
"Wait."
I ripped my hand away.
"Don't you dare touch me!"
He immediately stepped back, raising both hands.
"There's something wrong. Your sister wouldn't have known where to find you tonight."
"Maybe because she wanted to meet me!"
"Then why did someone send you that message warning you about me?"
I stared at him.
"What?"
"Think about the timing. The recording stopped. The lights went out. Then someone started sending messages pretending to be your sister."
Another violent knock shook the door.
"Evelyn!"
I couldn't think.
I couldn't breathe.
Eleven years of lies had collapsed around me in less than twenty minutes, and now I was supposed to decide which stranger deserved my trust.
Then Margaret spoke.
"Ask her what your mother called you."
Everyone turned.
Margaret stood beside my father's desk, her face illuminated by the pale glow of my phone.
"What?" I whispered.
"Your mother had a special name for you. Only the three of us knew it."
My father suddenly looked alarmed.
"Margaret."
She ignored him.
"Ask the woman outside."
I approached the door.
"What's my nickname?"
The pounding stopped.
Silence.
Then the woman answered.
"Little Sparrow."
Margaret's face crumpled.
I had never heard that name before.
But Margaret clearly had.
She covered her mouth and began crying.
"Oh, Catherine. What have they done?"
Adrian moved toward the door.
"Everyone, stand back."
He turned the lock.
And opened it.
A young woman stumbled into the study.
She was wearing a dark coat over hospital scrubs. Her brown hair was tangled, and a small bandage covered her forehead.
But none of those details mattered.
Because I was looking at myself.
My eyes.
My nose.
My mouth.
Even the small beauty mark beneath my left eye.
She was thinner than me, with shadows beneath her eyes and a face that suggested she hadn't slept properly in weeks.
But the resemblance was undeniable.
She stared at me.
Then her lips began trembling.
"Evelyn?"
I couldn't speak.
She took one uncertain step forward.
"My name is Elizabeth."
The room disappeared around me.
Elizabeth.
My sister.
My twin.
She reached toward me, then hesitated.
"I've waited so long."
Something broke inside my chest.
I crossed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around her.
She clung to me.
And suddenly, we were both crying.
Not because we understood what had happened.
But because we had lost eleven years that neither of us would ever get back.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
I pulled away.
"For what?"
Her eyes shifted toward Adrian.
"For bringing them here."
A heavy crash sounded somewhere downstairs.
Adrian immediately turned toward the hallway.
"How many?"
Elizabeth's face went white.
"Three. Maybe four."
My father stepped forward.
"Who followed you?"
She looked at him.
And everything about her expression changed.
The tears vanished.
Her shoulders stiffened.
"You."
My father stopped.
Elizabeth pointed at him.
"You sent them."
"That's ridiculous!"
"You promised you'd never let them find me!"
I stared at my father.
"Dad?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know what she's talking about."
Elizabeth laughed bitterly.
"Of course you don't."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small silver key.
"Then perhaps you remember this."
My father's face turned gray.
Adrian locked the study door.
"Whatever this is, we need to leave."
"Nobody's going anywhere," my father snapped.
Adrian turned toward him.
"Your security team just abandoned the east entrance. Someone deliberately shut down the electricity. And the people following Elizabeth know exactly where we are."
My father looked toward the dark windows.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that his money might not protect him.
"There's a private exit behind the library," he said.
Adrian nodded.
"Show us."
Harrison suddenly stepped forward.
"Richard, you can't seriously trust him."
Adrian looked at him.
"I wasn't asking you."
Harrison's jaw tightened.
I noticed something strange.
While everyone else was frightened, Harrison kept glancing at his phone.
He wasn't surprised.
He was waiting.
"Give me your phone," I said.
He stared at me.
"What?"
"Your phone."
"Evelyn, this isn't the time."
"Then show me your messages."
His expression hardened.
"You have no right."
I almost laughed.
Three hours earlier, this man had expected me to become his wife.
Now he wouldn't even show me his phone.
Elizabeth stepped beside me.
"He's the one who visited me yesterday."
Harrison froze.
My father turned.
"Harrison?"
Elizabeth's voice shook.
"He told me Evelyn had agreed to the marriage. He said that if I tried to contact her, she'd lose everything."
"She's lying," Harrison snapped.
Elizabeth raised her chin.
"Then tell them what happened to the woman in Room 417."
Harrison went silent.
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"What woman?"
Elizabeth looked at me.
"Our mother."
We escaped through a concealed passage behind my father's bookshelves.
I had lived in that mansion my entire life.
I hadn't known the passage existed.
Apparently, there were many things I didn't know about my home.
Margaret led us through a narrow corridor while Adrian remained at the rear.
My father walked beside Elizabeth, repeatedly attempting to speak to her.
She refused to look at him.
Harrison had disappeared.
Nobody had seen him leave the study.
I didn't like that.
Neither did Adrian.
When we reached the old greenhouse behind the mansion, he checked his phone.
"There's a car waiting beyond the service gate."
"Whose car?" I demanded.
"Mine."
"How convenient."
He looked at me.
"You have every reason not to trust me."
"That's the first honest thing you've said."
He accepted the remark without argument.
Elizabeth touched my arm.
"He's telling the truth about one thing."
I turned toward her.
"What?"
"We can't stay here."
"Why?"
She swallowed.
"Because they know I have the key."
I glanced at the silver object in her hand.
"What does it open?"
She looked toward Margaret.
Margaret lowered her eyes.
"The place where your mother kept her original records."
My father stopped walking.
"No."
Elizabeth faced him.
"You don't get to decide anymore."
He looked suddenly older.
"Elizabeth, you don't understand what you're doing."
"Then explain it."
He remained silent.
She shook her head.
"That's what I thought."
Twenty minutes later, we were inside Adrian's private apartment overlooking the river.
He had instructed his driver to take a deliberately complicated route through the city.
Nobody followed us.
At least, nobody we could see.
His apartment occupied the upper floor of a converted warehouse. The furnishings were expensive but surprisingly simple.
There were no photographs on the walls.
No family portraits.
Nothing that suggested Adrian Blackwood had ever belonged to anyone.
He brought us water.
Elizabeth refused hers.
I sat beside her on the sofa.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then I finally asked the question that had been tearing me apart.
"Where have you been?"
She looked down at her hands.
"At first, I was in a private medical facility."
"For eleven years?"
"No."
She swallowed.
"They moved me several times."
"Who?"
"The Montgomery family."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because of what Mom discovered."
My heart began pounding.
"What did she discover?"
Elizabeth looked toward Adrian.
"Do you want to tell her?"
He shook his head.
"She deserves to hear it from you."
Elizabeth took a deep breath.
"Mom discovered that someone had been stealing money from her foundation."
I frowned.
"Stealing?"
"Millions of dollars. Money intended for children's hospitals, medical research, and families who couldn't afford treatment."
I thought about the Whitmore Foundation.
My father's proudest achievement.
The organization that had hosted tonight's extravagant gala.
"How much?"
"At least forty million dollars."
I felt sick.
"Who stole it?"
Elizabeth's expression darkened.
"That's what Mom was trying to prove when she disappeared."
I turned toward my father.
He had been standing silently beside the window.
"Did you know?"
He didn't answer.
"Dad!"
"Your mother believed Harrison's father was responsible."
"Believed?"
"She never had enough evidence."
Elizabeth laughed.
"She had plenty of evidence."
My father looked at her.
"Then why didn't she give it to the police?"
"Because she discovered someone else was involved."
The room fell silent.
I stared at my father.
He slowly lowered himself into a chair.
And I knew.
I knew before Elizabeth said another word.
"Mom left us something," Elizabeth whispered.
She removed the silver key from her pocket.
"She told me that if anything happened to her, I had to find Margaret."
Margaret began crying again.
Elizabeth looked at her.
"But when I tried to contact you, they told me you'd died."
Margaret pressed a hand against her chest.
"Oh, sweetheart."
"They showed me your obituary."
"Who did?"
Elizabeth hesitated.
"Harrison's father."
Adrian leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Charles Montgomery."
The name seemed to change the atmosphere.
My father closed his eyes.
Charles Montgomery had been my father's closest friend for more than thirty years.
He had helped finance Whitmore Holdings.
He had attended every major family celebration.
He had stood beside my father at my mother's funeral.
And he had spent the past year encouraging my engagement to his son.
I felt nauseated.
"Where is Charles now?"
Adrian's expression darkened.
"That's what I've been trying to discover."
Elizabeth looked at him.
"You said you had someone watching his house."
"I did."
"Then call them."
Adrian checked his phone.
His face changed.
"What?" I asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he showed us the screen.
A photograph had arrived.
Charles Montgomery was standing beside a private jet.
Harrison stood next to him.
Between them was a woman in a wheelchair.
Her face was hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat.
Elizabeth gasped.
"Mom."
I grabbed the phone.
The photograph had been taken less than an hour earlier.
"Where are they?"
Adrian read the attached message.
"Private airport. North terminal."
I stood immediately.
"Then we're going."
My father grabbed my arm.
"Evelyn, wait."
I pulled away.
"Eleven years, Dad."
His expression crumpled.
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand!"
He stared at me.
For one moment, I thought he might finally tell me everything.
Instead, he whispered, "Your mother made me promise I'd protect you."
I felt tears burning behind my eyes.
"From what?"
He looked at Elizabeth.
"From the truth."
Margaret suddenly stood.
"Enough."
Everyone turned.
She reached into her handbag and removed my mother's diamond necklace.
The same necklace she had brought to my bedroom earlier that evening.
She placed it on the table.
"Catherine told me that one day, when both girls were together, I would have to give them this."
Elizabeth stared at the necklace.
"She kept it?"
Margaret nodded.
"Until the night she disappeared."
I picked it up.
The diamonds glittered beneath the apartment lights.
"What am I supposed to do with it?"
Margaret pointed toward the clasp.
"Look closely."
I turned it over.
There was a tiny engraved symbol beside the fastening.
Two intertwined letters.
E and E.
Evelyn and Elizabeth.
My sister leaned closer.
"Mom said we were the two halves of her heart."
My throat tightened.
Margaret pressed a nearly invisible indentation beneath the clasp.
A small compartment opened.
Inside was a tightly folded piece of paper.
I carefully removed it.
The paper was old and fragile.
My mother's handwriting covered both sides.
At the top were six words.
To my daughters, when you're together.
My hands began shaking.
I unfolded the letter.
And started reading.
My beautiful girls,
If you're reading this, something has gone terribly wrong.
I hope your father kept his promise. I hope he protected you both. But if he didn't, you must understand that the people threatening our family are closer than you imagine.
I discovered that the foundation was being used to conceal illegal financial transfers. When I tried to stop them, someone threatened to take one of you away.
I made a terrible decision.
I agreed to disappear.
I stopped.
Elizabeth covered her mouth.
My father began crying silently.
I forced myself to continue.
But disappearing was never supposed to mean abandoning you.
There is an original document that proves who controls the foundation and who has been stealing from it.
The key opens the safe in the old family estate.
Do not trust the copies.
Do not sign anything Charles Montgomery gives you.
And whatever happens, never allow either of my daughters to marry into his family.
I looked up.
My father had buried his face in his hands.
I continued reading.
There is one final thing you must know.
The person who betrayed me was someone I loved.
My breath caught.
The letter continued on the other side.
But before I could turn it over, Adrian's phone rang.
He answered.
"Yes?"
His expression changed.
"When?"
He listened.
Then he looked directly at me.
"Evelyn, we have a problem."
"What?"
"The woman at the airport wasn't your mother."
Elizabeth stood.
"Then who was she?"
Adrian didn't answer.
He was staring at something on his phone.
A new photograph.
He slowly turned the screen toward us.
The image showed a hospital corridor.
An elderly nurse stood beside a wheelchair.
And behind them was a familiar woman wearing a black evening gown.
Margaret Collins.
I turned toward her.
She was no longer crying.
She was staring at the photograph with an expression I couldn't understand.
Then my mother's letter slipped from my trembling fingers.
I had finally turned it over.
Beneath the final paragraph was a handwritten name.
Margaret reached for the paper.
"Give that to me."
I stepped backward.
Her voice suddenly became cold.
"Evelyn. Give me the letter."
Behind her, the apartment's private elevator chimed.
The doors began opening.
May you like
And a woman's voice called from inside.
"Margaret, step away from my daughters."
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