Chapter 4 - THE SISTER NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT
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I couldn't speak.
The basement suddenly felt smaller.
Natalie took the birth certificate from Dolores.
“This could be fabricated.”
Dolores laughed.
“Of course it could.”
“Then why bring it here?”
“Because Renee deserves the truth.”
I looked at her.
“You've never cared about me.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“But I care about what your father hid.”
“Where is she?”
“Who?”
“My sister.”
Dolores's expression changed.
“You're not ready.”
“I didn't ask whether I'm ready.”
I stepped forward.
“Where is she?”
Dolores placed a photograph on the table.
A young woman.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A tiny crescent-shaped scar beneath her eyebrow.
She looked remarkably like me.
I stared.
“What's her name?”
“Claire.”
“Claire what?”
“Claire Carter.”
Natalie frowned.
“Why isn't she in any family records?”
“Because she was erased.”
“By whom?”
Dolores looked at me.
“Your father.”
The words hit harder than anything else.
“No.”
“He thought she was dangerous.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire knew about the trust.”
“What trust?”
“The one you're standing in.”
I looked around the basement.
The walls suddenly seemed different.
Dolores explained.
My father had created a private family trust decades earlier.
It protected properties, investments and intellectual assets.
But it had an unusual condition.
The trust could only be fully activated by two sisters.
Me.
And Claire.
I stared.
“Why would Dad do that?”
“Because he feared one child would sell everything.”
“So he divided the authority.”
“Yes.”
“And Claire disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Dolores looked down.
“She was sent away when she was fourteen.”
“Why?”
“Because your father discovered someone was trying to manipulate her.”
“Who?”
Dolores didn't answer.
Instead, she pointed toward another box.
Inside was a collection of letters.
They were written by Claire.
Dad, please don't send me away.
I promise I won't tell anyone.
I don't understand what I did wrong.
My hands trembled.
My father had abandoned his own daughter.
Why?
I read the final letter.
Someone in the house is lying about me.
Then there was a name.
Marcus.
I stared.
My husband.
The final page contained one sentence.
Marcus says he loves me, but he wants me to sign something.
My stomach dropped.
I looked at Dolores.
“Marcus knew Claire.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He was looking for her.”
“Why?”
“To keep her from activating the trust.”
Natalie stepped forward.
“Renee, this changes the entire case.”
“How?”
“Your husband may not have married you for the house.”
“What?”
“He may have married you to locate Claire.”
I stared.
“No.”
Dolores said nothing.
I remembered moments from the beginning of my marriage.
Marcus asking strange questions about my childhood.
Asking whether I had siblings.
Asking if my father kept old letters.
I had thought he was being curious.
Maybe he wasn't.
Maybe he was searching.
Then my phone vibrated.
A text from an unknown number.
You finally found the room.
Another message appeared.
Now find me.
Then a location.
A coffee shop.
Twenty minutes away.
Natalie looked at me.
“Don't go.”
“I have to.”
“We'll take security.”
I nodded.
We arrived at the coffee shop.
A woman sat alone by the window.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Same scar.
She stood.
“Renee?”
I couldn't breathe.
“Yes.”
She smiled sadly.
“I'm Claire.”
My sister.
Alive.
Standing in front of me.
And before I could say anything, she whispered:
“Your husband isn't trying to steal the house.”
“Then what does he want?”
Claire looked over her shoulder.
“To find out whether you still have the key.”
I swallowed.
“What key?”
Claire's eyes filled with fear.
“The key your father gave you before he died.”
I frowned.
“I never received a key.”
Claire shook her head.
“Yes, you did.”
She pointed toward my neck.
“The pendant you never take off.”
I touched it.
My father's old silver pendant.
May you like
Claire whispered:
“That's the key.”
