Chapter 4 - The Daughter Nobody Remembered
The phone kept ringing.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The message remained on my father's screen.
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO THE OTHER DAUGHTER.
Five words.
Five words that destroyed whatever remained of the perfect family image my father had spent decades building.
The crowd around us had gone silent.
Not because they respected our privacy.
Because they were witnessing something they knew they would never forget.
The richest man at the party.
The man everyone admired.
The man who owned companies, buildings, and entire pieces of the city.
Was standing on a stage holding a phone like it was the most dangerous thing he had ever touched.
I looked at him.
"Dad."
He didn't answer.
"Dad, who sent that?"
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen.
"Adrian."
Claire's voice was shaking.
"Tell her."
My father finally looked up.
And the pain on his face scared me more than anger ever could.
Because anger could be fake.
Fear couldn't.
"I didn't know how to tell you."
I laughed softly.
A broken sound.
"That's your answer?"
My fingers tightened around the photograph.
"You didn't know how to tell me?"
I stepped closer.
"You had fifteen years."
The crowd watched silently.
"You had fifteen birthdays."
My voice started shaking.
"Fifteen Christmases."
I looked at Sienna.
"Fifteen years of watching me cover my scars while everyone in this family knew something I didn't."
Sienna immediately looked away.
For the first time in my life, she looked ashamed.
Not embarrassed.
Ashamed.
And somehow that hurt more.
Because I realized something.
She wasn't the only person who had been lied to.
She was just the person who had hurt me because she never knew why.
My father took a deep breath.
"The night of the fire..."
He stopped.
Like even saying those words hurt.
"The night of the fire, I found Elena unconscious near the hallway."
I listened.
Every part of me demanded answers.
"I carried her outside."
He looked at me.
"You were barely breathing."
My chest tightened.
"But when I went back inside..."
He looked at Claire.
She closed her eyes.
"I heard another sound."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"A baby crying."
Nobody moved.
"I thought it was Sienna."
My father looked toward my sister.
"But when I reached the nursery..."
He stopped.
"What?"
My voice was quiet.
"What did you see?"
My father swallowed.
"There were two cribs."
The world became silent again.
Two cribs.
I looked at Sienna.
She looked just as confused as I was.
"Two?"
My father nodded.
"Your family was told there was only one child in that room."
Marcus stepped forward.
"Because someone wanted it that way."
My eyes moved toward him.
"Who?"
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at my father.
"You tell her."
My father stared at the ground.
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't.
I thought he would do what he had always done.
Hide.
Protect the image.
Protect the money.
Protect everyone except me.
But then he said:
"The second child was your sister."
I frowned.
"What?"
He looked at Sienna.
"The baby in the second crib was Sienna."
Everyone gasped.
Sienna covered her mouth.
"No."
My father continued.
"After the fire, doctors found something strange."
I felt my heartbeat getting faster.
"What?"
"Both children had the same medical bracelet."
I looked down at the old photograph.
The two hospital beds.
Two girls.
Two bracelets.
"Someone switched the records."
Marcus nodded.
"Exactly."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
His expression became serious.
"Because one of those girls was never supposed to leave that hospital."
A chill ran through me.
"What does that mean?"
Marcus looked at me.
"It means someone tried to erase a child."
My mother suddenly stepped forward.
"Stop."
Everyone turned toward her.
She looked terrified.
Not angry.
Terrified.
"Please stop."
Claire stared at her.
"You knew too."
My mother's face changed.
And I understood.
She wasn't shocked.
She wasn't discovering this with me.
She already knew.
I looked at her.
"You knew?"
She couldn't answer.
"Mom."
The word came out like a warning.
She finally whispered:
"Yes."
That one word hurt more than anything else.
I thought the worst betrayal was my father hiding my biological mother.
I was wrong.
The worst betrayal was realizing everyone had been standing around me for fifteen years, watching me search for answers they already had.
"Why?"
My voice cracked.
"Why did nobody tell me?"
My mother looked at Sienna.
Then at me.
"Because we were told one of you would be safer if the truth disappeared."
I stared at her.
"Safer from who?"
Nobody answered.
Then Marcus spoke.
"From the person who started the fire."
I turned toward him.
"You know who?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"Who?"
His eyes moved around the party.
Over the guests.
Over the cameras.
Over everyone watching.
Then he said:
"Someone who was invited tonight."
A wave of whispers spread through the crowd.
Everyone looked around.
Searching.
My father immediately looked toward the mansion.
And I noticed something.
He wasn't looking for someone.
He was checking if someone had already arrived.
"Who is it?"
I demanded.
Marcus reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a small envelope.
Old.
Sealed.
My name was written across the front.
ELENA.
My hands went cold.
"Where did you get that?"
My father whispered.
Marcus looked at him.
"It was given to me the night of the fire."
My father stepped forward.
"No."
Marcus smiled.
"Yes."
My fingers touched the envelope.
"I don't understand."
Marcus looked at me.
"Your mother wrote this before she disappeared."
Claire nodded slowly.
"I thought it was destroyed."
Marcus handed it to me.
"It wasn't."
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single page.
The handwriting was familiar.
My mother's handwriting.
The same handwriting from birthday cards.
The same handwriting from notes she left before she vanished.
My eyes moved across the page.
And my breathing stopped.
Elena, if you are reading this, it means they failed to keep you away from the truth.
I looked up.
Claire was crying.
I continued reading.
I need you to know something. The fire was never meant to kill you.
My hands shook.
The next line was harder to read.
It was meant to take Sienna.
I looked at my sister.
She looked completely broken.
"No..."
She whispered.
I kept reading.
Someone inside our family knew about the fire before it happened.
The party became completely silent.
Someone helped start it.
My father stepped backward.
"No."
I looked at him.
For the first time, I wondered if he was afraid because he knew the truth.
Or because he was part of it.
Then I reached the final sentence.
The sentence that made my blood run cold.
Elena, do not trust the person who tells you they saved you.
I slowly lowered the paper.
Because someone behind me had started clapping.
Slowly.
One clap at a time.
Everyone turned.
A man stepped out from the crowd.
A guest who had been standing there the entire night.
A guest my family had invited.
He smiled at me.
And my father whispered his name.
May you like
"Impossible..."
Because the man walking toward us was supposed to have died in the fire fifteen years ago.
