Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN THE HALLWAY
Charles moved faster than anyone expected.
He pushed through the crowd and headed toward the corridor.
“Stop her!”
Security rushed after him.
Sophia followed.
So did Isabella.
Eleanor shouted their names, but neither daughter turned back.
The corridor beyond the ballroom was lined with mirrors and antique portraits.
At the far end, an exit door swung gently.
Sophia reached it first.
Outside, rain had begun falling across the hotel’s private courtyard.
No woman.
No vehicle.
Nothing.
Charles stood beneath the awning, breathing heavily.
“You saw her,” Sophia said.
He didn’t answer.
“You called her Elizabeth.”
“She looked like her.”
“Is our grandmother alive?”
Charles closed his eyes.
Isabella stared at him.
“Answer her.”
His shoulders sagged.
“I don’t know.”
Eleanor appeared behind them.
“You know enough.”
Charles turned.
For a moment, husband and daughter stared at each other with decades of hatred between them.
Sophia realized something.
Eleanor wasn’t afraid of Charles because he was alive.
She was afraid of what he might say.
“Why did everyone fake their deaths?” Isabella demanded.
Neither answered.
Sophia laughed bitterly.
“This family has more funerals than bodies.”
Arthur Bennett joined them carrying Jonathan’s letter in a plastic sleeve.
“I contacted the police.”
Eleanor snapped:
“You had no right.”
“A dead man is alive. Another death may have been murder. Documents were falsified. Yes, Eleanor. I had the right.”
Charles suddenly looked toward Arthur.
“Do not give that letter to local police.”
Arthur frowned.
“Why?”
“Because twenty years ago, someone inside the department helped bury Jonathan’s investigation.”
Sophia felt the pressure tighten again.
“Who?”
Charles shook his head.
“I never proved it.”
Isabella looked toward the hotel entrance.
“We need to leave.”
Eleanor immediately agreed.
“For once, Isabella is right.”
Sophia looked at them both.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
“You are in danger.”
“I’ve been in danger since I was five.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Eleanor stepped close enough that Sophia could smell her perfume.
“You want to know why you were sent away?”
“Yes.”
“Because the night Jonathan died, someone entered your bedroom.”
Sophia stopped.
“What?”
“You and Isabella shared a room.”
Isabella frowned.
“I don’t remember that.”
“You were drugged.”
Isabella stared.
Eleanor continued.
“When I came upstairs, one bed was empty.”
Sophia’s breathing changed.
“Mine?”
“No.”
Everyone froze.
Isabella whispered:
“Mine?”
Eleanor nodded.
“I found you in the east stairwell.”
“Who took me?”
“I never saw.”
Sophia looked confused.
“Then why was I sent away?”
“Because when I brought Isabella back, you were awake.”
Eleanor’s eyes fixed on Sophia.
“And you said something.”
Sophia swallowed.
“What?”
“You said, ‘The lady with Grandmother’s face took Bella.’”
Charles went pale.
Sophia felt a chill run over her skin.
“I was five.”
“Yes.”
“Maybe I imagined it.”
“That is what everyone told me.”
Eleanor looked at Charles.
“Especially him.”
Charles stared toward the rain.
Eleanor continued.
“The next morning, Jonathan was dead.”
“And then?”
“Two days later, I found a note inside your room.”
Sophia whispered:
“What note?”
Eleanor’s voice dropped.
“Choose one daughter to keep.”
Silence swallowed the corridor.
Isabella pressed a hand against the wall.
Sophia could barely breathe.
“Who wrote it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You chose Isabella.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“No.”
Sophia laughed once.
“You buried me.”
“I sent you away under another name.”
“You erased me!”
“To keep you alive!”
The words echoed through the corridor.
Eleanor’s composure broke completely.
“I thought whoever entered that bedroom wanted Isabella because they believed she was Jonathan’s biological daughter. So I sent you away because I thought you would be safer.”
Sophia stared at her.
“That makes no sense.”
“It did when I believed Thomas Vale was your father.”
“Which we now know may have been false.”
“Yes.”
Sophia shook her head.
“So you sacrificed me because of a DNA test you didn’t even trust.”
“I made a choice with a dead husband, two terrified children, and a note threatening both of you.”
“And then you let me grow up thinking nobody wanted me.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“I watched you from a distance.”
Sophia’s anger exploded.
“You watched?”
“I knew where Margaret took you.”
“You watched me work two jobs?”
Eleanor flinched.
“You watched me live in a basement apartment?”
“I sent money.”
“Margaret kept it.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You never checked!”
Sophia’s voice cracked.
“For twenty years, you were ten miles away and never once came to my door.”
Eleanor had no answer.
Sophia stepped back.
Isabella suddenly spoke.
“Did you know she worked at the hotel?”
Eleanor turned toward her.
“No.”
“Then how did she get hired for my birthday?”
Sophia froze.
She hadn’t considered that.
The agency had contacted her three days earlier with a last-minute catering shift.
Excellent pay.
No interview.
No references requested.
She slowly looked toward Arthur.
“I didn’t apply here.”
Arthur frowned.
“What?”
“The staffing agency called me.”
Charles’s expression changed.
“Someone brought you into this ballroom.”
Sophia felt cold.
Isabella whispered:
“On purpose.”
At that moment, Sophia’s phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
It had been taken less than five minutes earlier.
Sophia standing in the corridor.
Isabella beside her.
Eleanor facing them.
Someone was watching from inside the hotel.
Below the image were seven words:
YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO OPEN PAGE THREE.
Sophia looked at the envelope still in her hand.
She had opened the first two documents.
Not the third.
Her fingers trembled as she reached inside.
There was one page left.
She unfolded it.
At the top was a medical heading.
MATERNITY GENETIC SCREENING REPORT.
Two names appeared beneath it.
Isabella Hawthorne.
Sophia Hawthorne.
Then a single line:
GENETIC RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN SUBJECTS: NOT CONSISTENT WITH MONOZYGOTIC OR DIZYGOTIC TWIN SIBLINGS.
Sophia stared at Isabella.
Isabella stared back.
May you like
They weren’t twins.
According to the document, they might not even be sisters.
