Chapter 5 - THE GIRL WHO STOLE A BIRTHDAY
Isabella took the report from Sophia.
Her hands shook so violently the paper crackled.
“This is fake.”
Arthur examined the seal.
“I can’t verify that here.”
“It has to be fake.”
Sophia wanted to agree.
They had the same birthday.
Same childhood photograph.
Same distinctive birthmark.
Faces similar enough that strangers might easily believe they were sisters.
Yet the report said otherwise.
Charles stared at the page longer than anyone.
Then he whispered:
“I knew something was wrong.”
Eleanor turned.
“You knew?”
“Elizabeth used to say the girls weren’t born the same night.”
The corridor went silent.
Sophia looked at him.
“What?”
Charles rubbed his forehead.
“After Jonathan’s death, your grandmother started saying strange things.”
“Elizabeth was supposed to be dead before we were born.”
“Yes.”
“Then how could she say anything?”
Charles looked exhausted.
“Because the story you were told about Elizabeth’s death was false.”
Eleanor’s voice sharpened.
“Stop protecting yourself.”
Charles glared at her.
“I am telling them.”
“No. You’re editing.”
Sophia stepped between them.
“Then someone tell me everything.”
Eleanor looked at her.
“Elizabeth disappeared four months before you and Isabella were born.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes.”
Charles whispered:
“She was ill.”
“Mentally?”
“She had become paranoid.”
Eleanor laughed bitterly.
“Everyone in this family becomes ‘paranoid’ right before someone erases them.”
Charles said nothing.
Sophia noticed.
“So what happened?”
Eleanor continued.
“Elizabeth accused Jonathan of stealing a baby.”
Isabella’s face tightened.
“A baby?”
“She claimed one child in the family did not belong to us.”
Sophia touched the birthmark beneath her eye.
“What child?”
“She never said clearly.”
Charles interrupted.
“She was sick.”
“Or she knew something.”
Sophia looked at him.
“You faked her death.”
Charles’s face hardened.
“I announced her death after she vanished.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I believed she was dead.”
“Did you have a body?”
Silence.
Sophia almost laughed.
Another empty funeral.
Arthur removed his glasses.
“This family needs federal investigators.”
Charles ignored him.
“Jonathan believed Elizabeth had gone overseas.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Jonathan knew where she was.”
Charles snapped toward her.
“You have no proof.”
“I found his letters.”
“What letters?”
Eleanor reached into her purse.
Everyone stared.
“You had more documents?” Isabella asked.
“I didn’t know Sophia would appear tonight.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Eleanor removed a key.
Not paper.
A small brass key.
“Jonathan had a safe-deposit box under another name.”
Sophia stared.
“You’ve known this for twenty years?”
“I found the key after his funeral.”
“Did you open it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the bank required two keys.”
Charles suddenly looked toward the key.
His face changed.
Sophia noticed immediately.
“You have the second one.”
Charles said nothing.
Eleanor laughed coldly.
“Of course he does.”
Isabella stepped closer to her grandfather.
“Do you?”
Charles slowly reached into his coat.
He removed another brass key.
Same shape.
Same manufacturer.
Different number.
Sophia felt a rush of anger.
“Then we go now.”
Arthur checked the time.
“The bank is closed.”
Charles shook his head.
“Private clients have access.”
Eleanor immediately objected.
“No.”
Sophia turned.
“Why?”
“Because this is exactly what someone wants.”
She held up Sophia’s phone.
“They arranged for you to be here.”
“They made sure you opened those documents.”
“They may have brought Charles back into public view.”
“Whoever is doing this is moving all of us.”
Isabella looked at her mother.
“For once, that sounds reasonable.”
Sophia hated that it did.
Arthur spoke quietly.
“Then we involve law enforcement before going anywhere.”
Charles shook his head.
“No local police.”
“Federal investigators?”
Before anyone could answer, the hotel fire alarm screamed.
Guests inside the ballroom panicked.
Security radios erupted.
Red emergency lights began flashing along the corridor.
Sophia instinctively looked toward the ballroom.
Smoke rolled from one of the service entrances.
“Fire!”
Employees shouted.
People rushed toward exits.
Arthur grabbed Isabella’s arm.
“Stay together.”
But within seconds, the corridor flooded with guests.
Sophia lost sight of Eleanor.
Then Charles.
Then Isabella.
Someone shoved past her.
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Sophia spun around.
A woman in a black dress stood inches away.
Older.
Seventy, maybe.
Elegant.
Silver-blond hair.
And beneath her left eye was the same tiny crescent-shaped birthmark Sophia and Isabella both carried.
Sophia stopped breathing.
The woman leaned close.
“You’re opening the wrong family’s secrets.”
Sophia stared.
“Elizabeth?”
The woman’s expression changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Then she pulled Sophia toward a service door.
“Come with me if you want to know whose birthday this really is.”
Sophia resisted.
“Who are you?”
The woman looked into her eyes.
“You already know.”
“Then say it.”
Behind them, smoke thickened.
Guests screamed.
The woman finally whispered:
“I’m the woman who carried you.”
Sophia’s entire body went cold.
“You’re my grandmother.”
The woman shook her head.
“No, Sophia.”
May you like
She tightened her grip.
“I’m your mother.”
