Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO DISAPPEARED TWENTY YEARS AGO
Isabella Vane.
Clara had heard that name before.
Not often.
Only once.
Her mother had whispered it during a nightmare.
Clara had been fifteen.
Nora woke screaming, clutching her bedsheet, begging someone named Isabella to run.
The next morning, Nora refused to discuss it.
Now Casey Vane stood before Clara in the empty restaurant asking about the same woman.
Clara stared at him.
"My mother knew your sister."
Casey's expression hardened.
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Did she ever tell you what happened to Isabella?"
Clara shook her head.
"No."
Casey looked away.
For the first time, she saw something behind his cold expression.
Grief.
"When I was twelve, Isabella disappeared."
Clara swallowed.
"How old was she?"
"Twenty."
Exactly Clara's age.
Casey continued.
"She worked at a medical research company connected to our father's business."
"Then what happened?"
"One night, she called home. She sounded frightened."
He paused.
"She said she'd discovered something terrible."
Clara felt a chill.
"What?"
"She never told us."
Casey looked toward the dark windows.
"By morning, she was gone."
Clara thought about Nora's nightmares.
The warning signal.
Anthony recognizing her locket.
And the hospital bills still arriving after her mother's death.
Nothing felt accidental anymore.
"What company?" she asked.
Casey hesitated.
"Northbridge Biomedical."
Clara stopped breathing.
"What?"
He turned.
"You know it?"
"My mother worked there before St. Catherine's."
Casey's eyes narrowed.
"When?"
"Before I was born."
The room seemed to shift.
Casey took out his phone.
He showed her an old photograph.
A beautiful young woman stood outside a laboratory.
Dark hair.
Blue eyes.
A bright smile.
Beside her stood another woman.
Nora Hayes.
Clara covered her mouth.
"That's Mom."
Casey nodded.
"They worked together."
Clara stared at the photograph.
Nora looked so young.
So happy.
Before the hospital bills.
Before the exhaustion.
Before the sadness that sometimes settled over her face when she thought nobody was watching.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
Casey shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then Clara noticed something.
In the photograph, Isabella wore a crescent-shaped silver locket.
Identical to hers.
She touched her necklace.
Casey followed her gaze.
His expression changed.
"May I see it?"
Clara hesitated.
Then removed the locket.
She handed it to him.
Casey examined the back.
A tiny engraving rested beneath the clasp.
I.V.
Isabella Vane.
Casey's hand began trembling.
"Where did you get this?"
"My mother gave it to me."
"When?"
"On my eighteenth birthday."
He opened the locket.
Inside was a tiny photograph.
Nora holding a baby.
Clara.
But behind the photograph was another image.
A younger woman lying in a hospital bed.
Isabella.
And beside her was a newborn child.
Casey stared at the photograph.
Then slowly looked toward Clara.
His voice was barely audible.
"Isabella had a baby."
Clara's heart hammered.
"What?"
Casey swallowed.
"And according to our family records, that child died twenty years ago."
May you like
Then he looked at Clara again.
And neither of them needed to say what they were beginning to suspect.
