Chapter 13 - The Child in the FireThe photograph led us to an abandoned estate in Connecticut.
Daniel said the house had belonged to Adrian’s father.
Nobody had lived there in fifteen years.
That made it the perfect place for secrets.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and old smoke.
I found a staircase.
Under the final step was a hidden room.
Inside were dozens of photographs.
Children.
Adults.
Doctors.
Lawyers.
One photo made me stop.
My mother.
Holding a little girl.
The girl was me.
But beside us stood another woman.
Isabella.
Only younger.
Daniel stared at the photograph.
“She was there.”
“When?”
“The night the house burned.”
I turned.
“What fire?”
“The fire that killed half the Duca records.”
“You said Adrian’s brother survived.”
“He did.”
“Then who died?”
Daniel looked at the floor.
“Three people.”
“Who?”
“My father’s accountant.”
“A Duca lawyer.”
“And a little girl.”
Silence.
“What little girl?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
I understood.
“You thought she was dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is there a photograph of her?”
Before anyone could answer, footsteps sounded upstairs.
Adrian raised his weapon.
Someone was walking slowly through the hallway.
We waited.
A figure appeared.
A woman.
Dark coat.
Red hair.
Isabella.
She looked directly at me.
Then at Adrian.
“You finally came.”
Adrian raised his gun.
“Where is Toby?”
She smiled.
“Safe.”
“Bring him here.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Your life.”
She laughed.
“No.”
She walked closer.
“I don’t want your life.”
“What do you want?”
She looked at me.
“I want her.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because your mother stole something from me.”
“What?”
“My identity.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Isabella’s smile vanished.
“She died believing she had saved you.”
Then she touched her own face.
“She was wrong.”
She pulled off the red wig.
Her real hair was black.
And suddenly I understood why Adrian had never recognized her.
The woman standing there was not Isabella.
It was someone else.
May you like
Someone I had seen before.
The hospital nurse.
