Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
The woman standing in my grandfather's office didn't move.
Neither did I.
For several seconds, we just stared at each other.
Because my mind refused to accept what my eyes were seeing.
The woman standing in front of me was older than the photograph.
But I recognized her.
Not because I had met her.
Because I had seen her face in my father's old pictures.
The woman everyone told me disappeared twenty-five years ago.
The woman my father said died before I was old enough to remember.
My father's first wife.
My biological mother.
I stepped back slowly.
"No."
The woman looked at me with tears filling her eyes.
"Daniel..."
I raised my hand.
"Don't say my name."
Her expression broke.
Like those words hurt her more than anything else.
But I couldn't stop.
My entire life had just changed in one second.
The people I trusted most had built my entire identity around a lie.
"My mother is dead."
She looked down.
"No, Daniel."
Her voice trembled.
"Your father wanted you to believe that."
I stared at her.
My heart was beating so loudly I could barely hear anything else.
"Who are you?"
She swallowed.
"I'm the woman who tried to come back for you."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
I looked at the photograph in my hand.
The one showing her standing beside my father.
The same woman.
The same face.
But that was impossible.
My father had taken me to her grave when I was twelve.
I remembered standing there.
I remembered the stone.
I remembered him telling me:
"Your mother loved you more than anything."
I remembered crying.
I remembered believing him.
Every memory I had suddenly felt fake.
The woman slowly stepped closer.
"Daniel, listen to me."
I moved away.
"No."
She stopped.
"I need answers."
"You deserve them."
"Then start with the most important one."
My voice became colder.
"Why did my father tell me you were dead?"
Her eyes filled with pain.
"Because he was afraid you would find out what happened that night."
"What night?"
She looked toward the locked office door.
Like she expected someone to appear.
Then she whispered:
"The night your father tried to erase me."
I felt a chill.
"My father?"
She nodded.
"He didn't kill me."
A pause.
"But he made sure everyone thought he did."
I looked at the old file on the desk.
The one with my name.
"Why now?"
She looked at me.
"Because Isabella found something."
My chest tightened.
"How do you know about Isabella?"
The woman's face changed.
"Because she contacted me."
That answer made no sense.
"Isabella contacted you?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
I shook my head.
"No."
I remembered those weeks.
Isabella had been stressed.
She had been receiving mysterious phone calls.
She had stopped sleeping.
She kept saying she needed to tell me something.
But she never did.
Because someone stopped her.
My family.
"What did she find?"
The woman looked at the photograph.
"She found the truth about your birth."
I froze.
"My birth?"
She nodded.
"Your father wasn't your only parent who kept secrets."
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?"
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed outside.
Someone was walking down the hallway.
The woman's expression changed immediately.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Someone is here."
I looked toward the door.
"Who?"
She whispered:
"Your father."
My hands tightened.
I wasn't afraid anymore.
I was angry.
I opened the office door before he could.
My father stood outside.
For the first time in my life, he looked old.
Not powerful.
Not untouchable.
Just scared.
His eyes moved past me.
And stopped on the woman behind me.
The color disappeared from his face.
"You're alive."
The woman stared at him.
"You knew I was."
My father said nothing.
That silence confirmed everything.
I stepped between them.
"You knew."
My father looked at me.
"Daniel..."
"No."
My voice shook.
"You knew she was alive."
He closed his eyes.
"Let me explain."
I laughed.
A bitter laugh.
"Explain what?"
I held up the photograph.
"That you lied about my mother?"
He looked at the picture.
Then at me.
"You don't understand."
"Then make me understand."
My father entered the room slowly.
"Your mother disappeared because she was trying to destroy this family."
The woman behind me looked hurt.
"Still blaming me after all these years?"
My father ignored her.
"There were things you didn't know."
I stared at him.
"Apparently, there are many things I don't know."
He looked at me carefully.
"Where is Isabella?"
That question immediately caught my attention.
Not because he cared.
Because he was worried.
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
"Why do you care where she is?"
My father looked away.
And I knew.
He wasn't worried about Isabella.
He was worried about what she knew.
"What did she find?"
My father stayed silent.
I stepped closer.
"Did she find this file?"
Nothing.
"Did she find out about my mother?"
Still nothing.
Then the woman behind me spoke.
"She found the adoption papers."
My father turned sharply.
"Stop."
The word came out like a warning.
But it was too late.
I heard it.
Adoption papers.
I looked at my father.
"What adoption papers?"
The room became completely silent.
My father looked at me.
And for the first time...
He looked afraid of me.
"Daniel."
My hands started shaking.
"Answer me."
He didn't.
So I asked again.
"Louder."
"Was I adopted?"
The question hung in the air.
My father looked down.
That was enough.
I felt like the floor disappeared beneath me.
My entire life.
My childhood.
My memories.
Everything.
A lie.
The woman walked closer.
"Daniel, your father didn't just hide your mother."
She looked at me.
"He hid where you really came from."
I couldn't breathe.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
One sentence.
"Your father is not the only person who lied to you."
Then a photo appeared.
My hands went cold.
It was a picture of Isabella.
Taken inside our hospital room.
She was sleeping.
And standing beside her bed...
Was someone I recognized.
Someone from my family.
Someone who was supposed to be on my side.
My father saw the picture.
His face changed instantly.
"Delete that."
I looked at him.
"Who is that?"
He didn't answer.
"Who was standing beside my wife?"
My father stepped forward.
"Daniel, you need to leave."
"Why?"
His voice became desperate.
"Because whoever sent that message knows where Isabella is."
I stared at him.
Then another message arrived.
This time only three words.
"She's awake now."
My heart stopped.
Because the next message came with a video attached.
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And when I pressed play...
I heard Isabella whisper my name from a place she was never supposed to be.
