Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
I stared at the photograph on my phone.
My hands had gone cold.
The picture showed my family sitting around the dining table only hours earlier.
The same dinner.
The same people.
The same fake smiles.
But behind them, standing in the doorway, was a woman.
A woman who should not exist.
A woman I had buried twenty years ago.
My sister.
Isabella.
I zoomed in.
The image became blurry.
But there was no mistake.
The long dark hair.
The shape of her face.
The small scar near her eyebrow from when we were children.
It was her.
My heart refused to accept what my eyes were seeing.
Impossible.
That was the only word my mind could create.
Isabella was dead.
I had seen her body.
I had attended her funeral.
I had watched the coffin being lowered into the ground.
I had stood beside her grave and promised I would never forget her.
So how could she be standing behind my family?
I looked around the abandoned cabin.
The trees moved in the wind.
The darkness surrounded me.
And suddenly, I didn't feel alone anymore.
Someone wanted me to see this.
Someone wanted me to know Isabella was alive.
Or someone wanted me to believe she was.
My phone vibrated again.
Another message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
"Stop looking for answers you are not ready to survive."
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
"You already found the first lie."
A pause.
"Now find the person who buried her."
I felt a wave of anger replace my fear.
For twenty years, I had grieved.
For twenty years, I had blamed myself.
I thought I failed my sister because I wasn't there when she needed me.
But now I understood something.
Someone had stolen the truth from me.
Someone had decided what I was allowed to know.
I grabbed the metal box from the ground and walked back toward my car.
I needed answers.
Not tomorrow.
Not later.
Now.
When I reached the mansion, the lights were still on.
My security team stood outside.
They looked surprised to see me return so quickly.
"Mr. Bellini?"
I ignored them.
"Where is Adrian?"
One of the guards hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
"He left about twenty minutes ago."
"Where did he go?"
The guard looked uncomfortable.
"Sir..."
"Where?"
He lowered his voice.
"To the old Bellini property."
My stomach tightened.
"What old property?"
The guard looked at me.
"The family cemetery."
I didn't ask another question.
I drove there myself.
The cemetery was where Isabella had been buried.
The place where I had said goodbye.
The place where I believed she had rested for twenty years.
But now, every memory felt different.
Every moment felt like another lie.
When I arrived, Adrian's car was already there.
The headlights were still on.
I stepped out.
The cemetery was silent.
Too silent.
I walked between the graves.
Then I saw him.
Adrian stood in front of Isabella's grave.
His back was facing me.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I said his name.
"Adrian."
His shoulders dropped.
He didn't look surprised.
That scared me.
"You knew I would come here."
He slowly turned around.
His face looked exhausted.
Not guilty.
Not angry.
Just tired.
"Michael..."
"Don't."
My voice was colder than I expected.
"Don't say my name like you're still my brother."
His eyes moved toward the grave.
"I never wanted this."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's what everyone says when they get caught."
He looked at me.
"You don't understand what happened."
"No."
I stepped closer.
"You don't understand what happened."
I pulled out the phone.
I showed him the picture.
The color disappeared from his face.
For the first time since I had known him, Adrian looked truly afraid.
"Where did you get that?"
The question shocked me.
Not because he asked.
Because he didn't ask if it was real.
He already knew.
"You saw her."
His silence answered.
I felt something break inside me.
All the years.
All the trust.
Everything.
"You knew Isabella was alive."
Adrian looked away.
"I knew she survived."
The words hit harder than I expected.
Survived.
Not died.
Not passed away.
Survived.
I stepped back.
"Explain."
He rubbed his face.
"You need to understand something, Michael. Isabella wasn't killed."
"Then why did everyone tell me she was?"
"Because she wanted it that way."
I froze.
"What?"
Adrian looked at the grave.
"Your sister discovered something dangerous. Something involving people much more powerful than our family."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Michael..."
"No."
I pointed toward the grave.
"I watched them bury her."
Adrian's eyes filled with regret.
"You watched them bury an empty coffin."
The world went silent.
I couldn't hear the wind.
I couldn't hear my own breathing.
An empty coffin.
Twenty years of pain.
Twenty years of believing I lost my sister.
All built on a lie.
"Why?"
My voice cracked.
"Why would she do that to me?"
Adrian looked at me.
"Because she was trying to protect you."
I wanted to believe him.
That was the worst part.
Because somewhere deep inside, the little brother who missed his sister wanted those words to be true.
But another part of me knew.
Adrian was still hiding something.
"Where is she?"
He didn't answer.
"Where is Isabella?"
His eyes moved toward the trees.
"Michael, if she knows you're searching..."
"What?"
He looked back at me.
"She will run."
I stared at him.
"Why would she run from me?"
Adrian didn't respond.
Because the answer was already there.
She wasn't running from me.
She was running from what followed her.
My phone suddenly rang.
The screen showed a name.
A name I hadn't seen in twenty years.
Isabella Bellini.
My entire body froze.
Adrian looked at the phone.
His expression changed instantly.
"Don't answer."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
His voice dropped.
"Because if she is calling you..."
The phone kept ringing.
Adrian stepped closer.
"That means they found her."
I stared at the screen.
The name continued flashing.
Isabella.
My dead sister.
My missing sister.
The woman everyone told me was gone.
The phone rang one more time.
I answered.
For three seconds, there was only silence.
Then a woman's trembling voice whispered:
"Michael..."
I closed my eyes.
Because I knew that voice.
It was the voice I had heard in my memories every night for twenty years.
"Isabella?"
A breath.
A quiet sob.
Then she said:
"Please don't trust Adrian."
May you like
The call suddenly cut off.
And at that exact moment, a black SUV stopped outside the cemetery gates.
