Chapter 6 - The Sister Who Came Back From the Dead
The woman standing at the end of the hallway looked exactly like someone from my dreams.
That was the first thought that entered my mind.
Not my memories.
Not my logic.
My dreams.
The same eyes.
The same voice.
The same feeling of fear that always woke me up in the middle of the night.
But now she was real.
She was standing only a few meters away from me.
Alive.
My hand slowly moved toward Adrian without me realizing it.
He noticed.
He immediately held my hand.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he knew I was.
The woman looked at our hands.
Then she smiled sadly.
"So he still protects you."
Adrian stepped forward.
"Stay away from her."
The woman's smile disappeared.
"After everything, you still think I'm the danger?"
Her voice was calm.
Almost hurt.
But I couldn't forget what Claire had said.
My sister.
The woman who supposedly died.
The woman who might have been the reason my memories disappeared.
I stared at her.
"Who are you?"
For a moment, her expression changed.
Like hearing those words from me hurt more than anything.
"I'm Elena."
The name echoed inside my head.
Elena.
I repeated it silently.
And suddenly...
A memory appeared.
A little girl sitting on the floor.
A woman brushing my hair.
A voice whispering:
"Promise me you'll never forget me."
I closed my eyes.
My head started hurting.
"Sadie."
Adrian caught me before I fell.
Elena immediately moved forward.
"She remembers."
Adrian looked at her sharply.
"Don't."
But Elena ignored him.
"She remembers because she was never completely broken."
My eyes opened.
"What does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
I pushed away from Adrian.
"No more secrets."
My voice shook.
"But I mean it this time."
I looked at Elena.
"Tell me everything."
The room became silent.
Then Elena slowly walked down the stairs.
She didn't look dangerous.
That was the confusing part.
She looked like someone who had been carrying pain for years.
She stopped in front of me.
"I was your sister."
I frowned.
"Was?"
Her eyes lowered.
"Because the person you knew as Elena died three years ago."
I looked at the photograph.
The woman beside me.
The woman from my memories.
"Then who are you?"
She looked directly into my eyes.
"The person who survived."
A cold feeling moved through my body.
I stepped back.
"Survived what?"
Elena looked at Adrian.
And that look told me everything.
There was something between them.
Something they didn't want to say.
"Ask him."
I turned.
"Adrian."
He didn't answer.
"Tell me."
His jaw tightened.
"I wanted to tell you differently."
I almost laughed.
"Differently?"
I looked around the room.
"How exactly were you planning to tell me?"
That I had a husband?
That my sister was alive?
That my memories were stolen?
That my entire life was built on lies?
Adrian looked down.
"I was waiting for the right moment."
"There is no right moment for this."
My voice broke.
"There is only the truth."
Elena walked toward a small cabinet near the wall.
She opened it.
Inside were dozens of files.
Photos.
Documents.
Medical records.
She picked up one folder.
"This is what happened three years ago."
Adrian immediately said:
"Elena."
She looked at him.
"No more."
Then she handed me the folder.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
The first page was a hospital report.
My name.
My date of birth.
And a word written in bold:
UNIDENTIFIED MEMORY LOSS.
I kept reading.
The report described an accident.
A head injury.
A patient unable to remember personal information.
But one line made my blood freeze.
"Patient repeatedly asks about husband and sister."
I looked up.
"I asked about you."
Adrian nodded.
"You did."
"Then why didn't you find me?"
His eyes became painful.
"I did."
"Then where were you?"
The silence answered before he did.
"I was too late."
I stared at him.
"What does that mean?"
Elena took the folder from my hand.
"Because someone moved you before Adrian reached the hospital."
"Who?"
Nobody spoke.
Then Elena said:
"Our father."
The room changed.
Adrian's expression became dark.
"Don't bring him into this."
Elena looked at him.
"He was always in this."
I looked between them.
"Your father?"
Adrian nodded slowly.
"The Vale family has enemies."
"I don't care about your family."
My voice became sharper.
"I care about why I lost three years of my life."
Elena looked at me.
"Because you found something you weren't supposed to find."
I froze.
"What?"
She opened another file.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph of me.
Holding a small black box.
I didn't recognize it.
But my expression in the picture...
I did.
I looked terrified.
"When was this taken?"
"Two days before you disappeared."
My breathing became uneven.
"What was inside the box?"
Elena didn't answer.
Because Adrian did.
"The evidence."
I looked at him.
"Evidence of what?"
His face hardened.
"The reason someone wanted you gone."
The room became silent.
I looked at the photo again.
The box.
My hands.
My fear.
Then something strange happened.
A memory returned.
A hallway.
That house.
A locked room.
And Elena standing in front of a door.
Crying.
"Don't open it, Sadie."
I grabbed the table.
"That door."
Everyone looked at me.
"What door?" Adrian asked.
"The basement."
The color disappeared from Elena's face.
Because she knew.
"You remember."
I looked at her.
"I saw you there."
Elena whispered:
"You weren't supposed to."
Before I could ask what she meant...
The lights in the house flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went completely dark.
Adrian immediately moved toward me.
His security team reacted.
Someone outside shouted.
"Sir!"
A few seconds later, one of Adrian's men entered.
His face was pale.
"We found something."
Adrian looked at him.
"What?"
The man held up a small envelope.
"It was placed at the front door."
Nobody touched it.
Not even Adrian.
Because we all knew.
Someone had left it for us.
Elena stepped closer.
"That's impossible."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
Her voice became a whisper.
"Because that handwriting..."
She stopped.
I looked at the envelope.
A name was written on the front.
My name.
Not Sadie Bennett.
Something else.
Something I had never heard before.
Something that made Adrian go completely still.
The envelope slowly opened by itself.
May you like
And inside was a single photograph.
A photograph of me standing beside someone who should have been dead for three years.
