Chapter 6: The Sister Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The woman in the red coat stood on my parents' doorstep, rain shining on her shoulders, while I stared at her face and tried to force the photograph in my hand to match the person standing in front of me.
She had my mother's eyes.
My grandfather's chin.
And a tiny scar above her left eyebrow.
I had the same scar.
I touched mine without thinking.
The woman noticed.
Her expression broke.
“You still do that when you're nervous.””
My fingers dropped.
“How do you know that?””
She swallowed.
“Because I used to hold your hand whenever you cried.””
My mother made a sound behind me.
Not a gasp.
Something deeper.
A broken, wounded noise.
“Elsie,” she whispered.
The woman closed her eyes.
“My name is Elise now.””
Mom stumbled forward.
“I thought you were dead.””
Elise looked at her.
“You were supposed to.””
I stepped aside.
“Come in.””
She walked into the house.
Daniel followed, carrying his briefcase.
Dad remained frozen beside the fireplace.
Elise stopped when she saw him.
Their eyes met.
“You never came.””
Dad's face crumpled.
“I wasn't allowed.””
“You could have tried.””
“I did.””
“You stopped.””
“I was told you were dead.””
Elise laughed bitterly.
“And you believed them?””
Dad looked down.
“I was twenty-nine.””
“You were my father.””
“I know.””
“You were supposed to find me.””
His shoulders sagged.
“I know.””
I looked between them.
“Someone please tell me what happened.””
Nobody answered.
I raised my voice.
“Now.””
Elise looked at me.
“You deserve the whole story.””
She took off her coat and placed it over a chair.
Then she looked around the living room.
“Nothing changed.””
I stared at her.
“You remember this house?””
“Of course.””
“You were four.””
“I remember more than you think.””
She sat.
I remained standing.
Daniel opened his briefcase.
“Before we begin, Sophia, there are documents you need to see.””
“Later.””
I pointed at Elise.
“She first.””
Daniel nodded.
Elise took a breath.
“Five years ago, I contacted your father.””
Dad looked up.
“I told him I was alive.””
I stared at him.
“You knew?””
“No.””
He looked at Elise.
“I didn't believe it.””
“You had my photograph.””
“I thought it was a scam.””
Elise nodded.
“I expected that.””
“Then what happened?””
She looked at me.
“I sent him proof.””
“What proof?””
“Your grandfather's letter.””
My heart stopped.
“What letter?””
“The one he wrote to me before he died.””
Daniel's expression tightened.
“Elise, you shouldn't—”
“She deserves to know.””
I looked at Daniel.
“Let her talk.””
Elise continued.
“Grandfather knew what happened. He knew the fire wasn't an accident.””
Mom began crying again.
I turned toward her.
“What fire?””
She whispered, “The house.””
“What about it?””
Elise looked at me.
“The fire was started deliberately.””
My stomach dropped.
“By who?””
She looked at Dad.
“He never told me.””
Dad stood.
“That's not true.””
Elise turned.
“You knew?””
“I suspected.””
“For twenty-five years?””
Dad's jaw tightened.
“I was told the investigation was closed.””
“And you accepted that.””
“I was threatened.””
Silence.
I stared at him.
“By whom?””
He didn't answer.
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“The person who caused the fire knew about the trust.””
My pulse began racing.
“What trust?””
“Your grandfather's.””
Daniel stepped forward.
“Let me explain.””
He opened a folder.
“Your grandfather had built a private holding structure before Elise was born. The family business was divided between his children, but he created a separate trust for his grandchildren.””
He placed a document on the table.
“Originally, the trust had two beneficiaries.””
Elise.
And me.
“After the fire,” Daniel continued, “the family was told Elise had died.””
I looked at Elise.
“Who told you?””
“A woman named Evelyn Hart.””
My skin prickled.
“The same Evelyn who helped me buy Ellen?””
“Yes.””
I stared at Daniel.
“Why was she involved?””
“Because she was your grandfather's assistant.””
My father's face changed.
“What?””
Daniel nodded.
“She worked for him for fifteen years.””
Dad whispered, “That isn't possible.””
“It is.””
Elise leaned forward.
“Evelyn helped me disappear.””
I looked at her.
“Why would she do that?””
“Because she believed the person who ordered the fire would kill me if they knew I survived.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
I looked at Dad.
He closed his eyes.
“Then why did you come back?””
Elise looked directly at me.
“Because of you.””
My throat tightened.
“Me?””
“Yes.””
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope.
“I watched you from a distance.””
“What?””
“After I learned you were alive.””
I frowned.
“You mean after you learned I was alive?””
She smiled sadly.
“I always knew.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?””
“I knew you were alive.””
“You knew?””
“Yes.””
“For how long?””
“Twenty-five years.””
I stared at her.
“Then why didn't you find me?””
“Because every time I tried, someone stopped me.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
Dad suddenly slammed his hand against the table.
“Enough.””
Everyone looked at him.
He was shaking.
“I can't listen to this anymore.””
Elise stood.
“You should have listened twenty-five years ago.””
“I was trying to protect Sophia.””
“You protected yourself.””
Dad's face hardened.
“I lost one daughter.””
Elise's eyes filled with tears.
“You lost two.””
Nobody spoke.
Then I noticed something.
A photograph on the table.
The one I'd brought from my childhood.
Elise picked it up.
She turned it over.
Her expression changed.
“What?””
She pointed at the handwriting.
“Where did you get this?””
“It was in my father's desk.””
“Who gave it to you?””
“Dad.””
Elise stared at him.
Then she turned the photograph around.
On the back was a second line beneath the Christmas inscription.
I had never seen it.
Neither had Dad.
Elise read it aloud.
“*If anything happens to Elise, Sophia must never be told the truth until she turns thirty.*”
I looked at Daniel.
“Thirty?””
He nodded.
“That's why the trust releases now.””
I looked at Elise.
“Why?””
She whispered:
“Because your grandfather knew the truth would destroy you if you learned it too young.””
I felt anger rising.
“What truth?””
Elise looked at Dad.
Then at Mom.
Finally, she looked at me.
“That I'm not the only one who survived the fire.””
I couldn't breathe.
“What?””
Elise reached into her bag again.
This time, she pulled out a newspaper clipping.
The photograph was black and white.
The headline was twenty-five years old.
*THREE CHILDREN RESCUED FROM BENNETT HOUSE FIRE*
I stared at it.
“Three?””
Elise nodded.
“That's what the official report said.””
I looked closer.
Two names were visible.
Elise Bennett.
Sophia Bennett.
The third name had been blacked out.
“Who was the third child?””
Dad whispered:
“My brother's son.””
I looked at him.
“You had a cousin?””
“No.””
Dad shook his head.
“My brother had a son.””
“Where is he?””
Dad didn't answer.
Elise did.
“He disappeared the same night I did.””
The front door suddenly opened.
Everyone turned.
A man stood outside.
Mid-fifties.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
His face looked vaguely familiar.
He stared at Elise.
Then at me.
Then at Dad.
“I think,” he said quietly, “it's time you all stopped looking for the wrong person.””
Daniel stepped toward the door.
“Who are you?””
The man smiled.
“Sophia knows me.””
I frowned.
“No, I don't.””
He looked at the photograph in my hand.
“You will.””
Then he placed an old brass key on the floor.
“This belonged to your grandfather.””
He turned to leave.
I ran after him.
“Wait!””
He stopped.
“Who are you?””
He looked over his shoulder.
“My name is Thomas.””
Then he disappeared into the rain.
I returned to the living room.
Elise was staring at the key.
Her face had gone pale.
“What?””
May you like
She whispered:
“That key opens the room where they kept me.””
