Chapter 7 - The Daughter They Tried To Erase
The message stayed on my screen.
You finally found out about Sienna. Now find out about the daughter your father buried.
I read it once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
But the words didn't change.
A daughter.
Another daughter.
Not Sienna.
Not me.
Someone else.
My hands went cold.
I looked around the party.
The same people who had arrived tonight expecting champagne and music were now standing in complete silence, watching my family fall apart.
Nobody was celebrating anymore.
Because this was no longer a birthday party.
It was an investigation.
And the person everyone was looking at was my father.
Adrian Hayes.
The man who had built an empire.
The man who had convinced the world he was a devoted father.
The man who had spent fifteen years hiding pieces of his own family.
I slowly turned toward him.
"Dad."
He didn't answer.
"Who is she?"
His face changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
The fear.
The same fear he had shown when Marcus walked onto the stage.
The same fear he had shown when the video started playing.
"Who is the daughter you buried?"
The crowd became restless.
My mother looked down.
Claire covered her mouth.
Sienna looked between all of us, completely lost.
My sister had spent her entire life believing she knew who she was.
Now she was discovering that even her own identity had been built on secrets.
My father finally spoke.
"Elena, this isn't the place."
I almost smiled.
Because that was his favorite sentence.
Not now.
Not here.
Later.
Always later.
But later never came.
"Then where?"
I stepped closer.
"Where was the right place?"
He looked at me.
"Was it when I was eight and asking why Mom wasn't coming back?"
Silence.
"Was it when I was twelve and wondering why everyone looked uncomfortable when they saw my scars?"
My voice shook.
"Was it when Sienna laughed at me tonight?"
Sienna immediately looked down.
"And you all just watched?"
My father closed his eyes.
Because there was no defense anymore.
Marcus stepped forward.
"She deserves the truth."
My father looked at him.
"You don't know what the truth will do."
Marcus's expression hardened.
"Neither did the child you abandoned."
The words hit the room like a weapon.
Abandoned.
Nobody moved.
I stared at my father.
"Abandoned?"
He looked away.
And somehow that hurt more than anything.
Because my father had always been the one person I thought was different.
The one person who stayed.
The one person who protected me.
But now I was realizing something terrifying.
Maybe he didn't protect me.
Maybe he protected himself.
"Tell me."
My voice became quieter.
"Please."
That word surprised everyone.
Even me.
Because beneath all the anger...
I was still that seven-year-old girl waiting for her father to come back into the burning house.
My father looked at me.
And for a moment, I saw pain.
Real pain.
"The night of the fire..."
He stopped.
"I wasn't supposed to be home."
I frowned.
"What?"
He looked at the ground.
"I came back early."
Marcus nodded.
"Because someone called him."
My father looked at him.
"Don't."
Marcus ignored him.
"Someone knew there was going to be a fire."
My heart started racing.
"You knew?"
My father shook his head.
"No."
"Then who called you?"
He didn't answer.
Claire did.
"It was me."
Everyone turned toward her.
My mother looked shocked.
Even Marcus looked surprised.
Claire stepped forward.
"I called Adrian that night."
My father stared at her.
"Why?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because I found something."
"What?"
She looked at me.
"I found documents."
The word sounded familiar.
Documents.
Everyone kept mentioning them.
Records.
Files.
Proof.
"About what?"
Claire swallowed.
"About a child."
The air disappeared from my lungs.
Another child.
Always another child.
"Whose child?"
Nobody spoke.
Then Claire whispered:
"Yours."
I froze.
Mine?
"What do you mean?"
She reached into her purse.
Her hands were shaking.
She pulled out a small folder.
Old.
Worn.
She held it like it weighed a hundred pounds.
"I found this hidden in your father's office."
My father immediately stepped forward.
"Claire."
"No."
Her voice was stronger than I had ever heard.
"You don't get to stop me anymore."
She handed me the folder.
I opened it.
Inside were medical records.
Hospital reports.
Birth certificates.
DNA test results.
My eyes moved quickly.
Then stopped.
Because one sentence made everything blur.
Patient: Elena Bennett. Additional sibling match found.
Sibling.
My heart started pounding.
I turned the page.
There was a photograph.
A baby.
A little girl.
Wrapped in a white blanket.
On the back was written:
She has your mother's eyes.
I looked up.
"Who is this?"
Nobody answered.
Then Marcus said:
"Her name was Lily."
The name felt strange.
But familiar.
Like a song I had forgotten.
"Lily?"
Marcus nodded.
"Your sister."
My hands started shaking.
"I don't have another sister."
Marcus looked at me.
"You did."
The crowd gasped.
My father whispered:
"Stop."
Marcus continued.
"She was born eighteen months before you."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He nodded.
"Your parents had another child before you."
I looked at my father.
He didn't deny it.
That was the worst part.
He didn't deny it.
"Where is she?"
The question came out immediately.
Marcus's face changed.
And I knew the answer was going to hurt.
"She disappeared."
My chest tightened.
"Because of the fire?"
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
"Then why?"
He looked at my father.
"Because after the fire, Adrian made a decision."
My father's face went pale.
"Don't."
I looked at him.
"What decision?"
Nobody spoke.
Marcus answered.
"He erased her."
The entire party went silent.
"No."
My father's voice cracked.
"That's not what happened."
"Then explain."
Marcus stepped closer.
"Explain why her name was removed from every family record."
My father looked away.
"Explain why her birth certificate disappeared."
Silence.
"Explain why her hospital file was sealed."
My father couldn't.
Because he knew.
I looked at him.
"Dad..."
His eyes filled with tears.
"I thought I was saving you."
The sentence broke something inside me.
"Saving me from what?"
He looked at me.
"From the same person who started the fire."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
My father whispered:
"Lily wasn't taken by accident."
The lights around the mansion suddenly flickered.
Everyone looked around.
A second later, every phone screen in the crowd lit up again.
Another message.
Another unknown number.
This time, there was an attachment.
A photograph.
I opened it.
And my breath disappeared.
It was a picture of a woman.
A grown woman.
Standing outside the same mansion.
The same night.
The same party.
And underneath the picture was one sentence:
Your sister has been watching you all night.
I slowly raised my eyes.
May you like
Because someone in the crowd had just stepped backward.
Someone who looked exactly like me.
