Chapter 13: The Woman Who Held All Three Secrets
My mother stood beneath the flickering fluorescent light, her face drained of color.
Both girls were pointing at her.
“Mommy…”
Their voices overlapped.
“Ask Grandma.”
I stared at Elizabeth.
She looked at me.
For the first time in my life, I saw fear in my mother's eyes.
Not guilt.
Not sadness.
Fear.
Real fear.
The kind that makes a person look at every door before answering a question.
I slowly stood.
“What do you know?”
She didn't respond.
“Mom.”
Nothing.
“Elizabeth.”
She closed her eyes.
“I was hoping you would never find out.”
I felt my anger rise.
“You've been hoping that my entire life.”
“I was protecting you.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“You lied about being dead.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about my birth.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about Rachel.”
“Yes.”
“You lied about Lily.”
Her lips trembled.
“Yes.”
“And now you're lying about Emma.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
She looked at the two girls.
Then at Daniel lying wounded on the floor.
Then at Richard.
Finally, she looked back at me.
“There are three children.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Three girls.”
The room became silent.
I felt my heart stop.
“Three?”
My mother nodded.
“Three babies were born that night.”
Michael stepped forward.
“Elizabeth…”
She raised a hand.
“Let me finish.”
She looked at me.
“You were one.”
I glanced at Rachel.
“She was another.”
Then she pointed toward Emma.
“And she was the third.”
I stared at the girls.
Three children.
Three identities.
Three lives built on a lie.
But something didn't fit.
“Rachel isn't my twin.”
“No.”
“She was born eleven months before me.”
“Yes.”
“Then how can she be one of the three babies?”
“She wasn't.”
I felt dizzy.
“Then what are you talking about?”
My mother swallowed.
“Rachel is not your sister.”
Rachel's face changed.
“What?”
My mother looked at her.
“You are my husband's daughter.”
Rachel froze.
“What?”
“Your father was Richard's father.”
Rachel stepped backward.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That would make me…”
“Richard's niece.”
Rachel stared at her.
“And Sarah?”
“My daughter.”
“And Lily?”
“Sarah's daughter.”
I looked at Emma.
“And Emma?”
My mother whispered:
“Rachel's daughter.”
Rachel shook her head.
“No.”
My mother nodded.
“Yes.”
Rachel's eyes filled with tears.
“You told me my mother died.”
“She did.”
“You told me I was her only child.”
“I was wrong.”
Rachel stared at Emma.
“My daughter…”
Emma looked up at her.
Rachel slowly walked toward her.
“I've been looking for you.”
Emma stepped behind me.
Rachel stopped.
“I understand.”
She wiped her tears.
Then she turned toward my mother.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Richard would have killed you.”
“He already tried.”
“I know.”
Rachel looked at me.
“Then why did you let Sarah raise her?”
My mother didn't answer.
I did.
“Because someone switched them.”
My mother nodded.
“Richard.”
“But why?”
“Because Richard believed the bloodline could only continue through one child.”
“Lily.”
“Yes.”
“And he thought Emma was the wrong child.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Lily.
She was watching us quietly.
“Then why did Richard call Emma the decoy?”
My mother shook her head.
“He didn't.”
I frowned.
“Richard did.”
“No.”
She looked at the man lying on the floor.
“That's not Richard.”
Everyone froze.
I looked down.
The wounded man slowly smiled.
Thomas lowered his gun.
“What did you say?”
My mother stepped forward.
“That isn't Richard.”
The man on the floor laughed.
“You finally remembered.”
My blood went cold.
I stared at his face.
The gray hair.
The scar.
The voice.
But suddenly, something felt wrong.
The man smiled.
And I realized his eyes were different.
Richard's eyes had always been blue.
This man's were brown.
I looked at Michael.
“You knew.”
He nodded.
“He isn't Richard.”
“Who is he?”
The man slowly stood.
Thomas raised his gun.
“Don't move.”
The stranger laughed.
“You really don't recognize me?”
I stared at him.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out an old photograph.
He held it up.
It showed two young men standing beside their father.
One was Richard.
The other was Thomas.
But the stranger looked exactly like the man on the left.
I looked at Thomas.
Then at the stranger.
Thomas whispered,
“No.”
The stranger smiled.
“Hello, brother.”
Thomas's gun lowered.
“James?”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Who is James?”
Thomas looked at me.
“Our youngest brother.”
The stranger laughed.
“Everyone thought I died.”
I stared at him.
“How many people in this family are supposedly dead?”
James smiled.
“Enough to fill a cemetery.”
He turned toward Lily.
“And one of them is standing right there.”
I stepped in front of my daughter.
“Don't you dare.”
James raised his hands.
“I don't want to hurt her.”
“Then what do you want?”
“The inheritance.”
“Of course.”
“But not the money.”
“Then what?”
He pointed toward Lily.
“Her DNA.”
I tightened my arms around her.
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No.”
His face became serious.
“Your daughter isn't just an heir.”
I looked at Michael.
He nodded slowly.
“She's a biological key.”
“To what?”
“The original research.”
I frowned.
“What research?”
James smiled.
“The treatment.”
“What treatment?”
“The disease that killed our father.”
I froze.
“Our father died from a genetic disease.”
“Yes.”
“And the research was supposed to cure it.”
“Yes.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
“Then what does Lily have to do with it?”
James's eyes moved toward the little girl.
“She carries the mutation.”
I felt sick.
“You want to use my daughter for experiments.”
“No.”
He smiled.
“I want to use her to finish what our father started.”
Michael stepped forward.
“James, stop.”
James looked at him.
“You were always the weak one.”
“I won't let you hurt her.”
“You already did.”
Michael froze.
“What?”
James looked at me.
“Ask him what happened five years ago.”
I turned toward Michael.
“What happened?”
He said nothing.
“Tell me.”
James laughed.
“Ask him why your daughter was taken from the hospital.”
I looked at Michael.
“Why?”
His face collapsed.
“Because I made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I gave the wrong baby to Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“I thought I was saving Lily.”
“From whom?”
“Richard.”
“But Richard wasn't even Richard.”
“I didn't know James was alive.”
James smiled.
“And that's why you lost her.”
I stared at Michael.
“You switched the babies.”
“Yes.”
“Which one did you give Daniel?”
Michael closed his eyes.
“Emma.”
I looked at my daughter.
Then at Lily.
“So Emma was never supposed to be with me.”
“No.”
“Lily was.”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Because Richard was searching for Lily.”
I whispered,
“And you thought Emma would fool him.”
Michael nodded.
“I thought I could hide Lily.”
I looked at Emma.
“From the beginning, she was used as a decoy.”
“Yes.”
Tears filled my eyes.
My daughter had spent five years believing she was simply my child.
But the adults around her had treated her like a shield.
I turned toward Michael.
“You stole five years from me.”
“I know.”
“You stole five years from her.”
“I know.”
“And you let me believe she was mine.”
“I was trying to save both girls.”
“By lying?”
“Yes.”
I stepped away.
Then Lily spoke.
“Mommy?”
I turned.
She was holding something.
A small silver locket.
“Grandma gave me this.”
My mother froze.
“Where did you get that?”
“Before she died.”
I opened the locket.
Inside was a photograph.
A young woman.
I recognized her.
My grandmother.
But beside her was a man I had never seen.
I turned the photograph over.
There was writing.
To my first daughter.
My heart stopped.
“First daughter?”
My mother looked at the photograph.
Then she whispered,
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother only had one child.”
I looked at her.
“Then who was this?”
She didn't answer.
James did.
“Your grandmother had another daughter.”
I felt dizzy.
“Who?”
James pointed at Rachel.
Rachel shook her head.
“No.”
James smiled.
“Not Rachel.”
He pointed at me.
“Her.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Your grandmother had another daughter before Elizabeth.”
My mother whispered,
“She was erased.”
“Why?”
“Because she was the original heir.”
I looked at Lily.
Then at the photograph.
Suddenly, I understood.
The inheritance hadn't started with Richard.
It had started generations earlier.
My family had been hiding the identity of the firstborn daughter for nearly a century.
And somehow, that secret had reached my daughter.
I looked at James.
“Where is she?”
He smiled.
“Dead.”
I exhaled.
“Then why does it matter?”
“Because she left a child.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
James pointed toward the door.
A woman stepped inside.
She was older.
Maybe sixty.
Her hair was white.
Her face was scarred.
But her eyes were unmistakably mine.
I couldn't move.
She looked directly at me.
Then at Lily.
And whispered:
“I've been looking for my family for sixty years.”
My mother collapsed into a chair.
“No…”
The woman smiled.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
My mother began sobbing.
I looked between them.
“Who is she?”
The woman answered herself.
“Your aunt.”
She looked at Lily.
“And that little girl is the reason they never wanted me to find you.”
I felt the room spinning.
“Why?”
Her eyes hardened.
“Because I know where the original Carter fortune is hidden.”
Everyone went silent.
She took one step closer.
“And I know who really killed Richard Carter.”
I stared at her.
“Who?”
She looked directly at my mother.
“Your mother.”
My heart stopped.
Then my mother whispered:
May you like
“She's lying.”
And for the first time, I didn't know which woman to believe.
