Chapter 10 - The memory came back in pieces.A yellow dress.
A red bicycle.
A woman singing.
A smell of lavender.
A little girl with dark hair.
Someone calling me by another name.
“Lena.”
I woke from a nightmare at 3:17 a.m.
Daniel was beside me.
“Are you okay?”
I sat upright.
“I remembered something.”
“What?”
“I wasn't called Huy.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity, then corrected myself. “I wasn't called Lily's mother’s name either.”
Daniel stared.
“What were you called?”
“Lena.”
He frowned.
“Do you know who Lena was?”
I shook my head.
“I think that was me.”
The police had put me in a secure hotel for the night.
Nobody trusted the house anymore.
Nobody trusted the old records.
Nobody trusted the people who had raised us.
My mother was still in custody.
Victor was supposedly dead.
Clara was missing.
And my childhood might have been manufactured.
The next morning, a forensic psychologist showed me old photographs.
Not to diagnose me.
To stimulate memory.
One picture showed a red bicycle.
I began crying.
“I know this.”
“Where?”
“A field.”
Another showed a white house.
“That one.”
“Who lived there?”
“My mother.”
“Which mother?”
I froze.
“The woman in the field.”
The psychologist showed me another image.
Maria.
I whispered:
“She sang to me.”
That was enough.
My memories weren't invented.
They had been buried.
I remembered a woman holding me.
A little girl beside us.
Rebecca.
We were both about three.
And another child.
Clara.
Older.
Seven.
We had been together.
Before Helen.
Before Virginia.
Before everything.
I remembered a man.
Victor.
He stood in the doorway.
He was angry.
Maria screamed.
Then a loud crash.
A car.
Rain.
Someone carried me.
The memory ended.
When I told Dad, he began crying.
“You remember.”
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Helen took you after Maria disappeared.”
“Why me?”
“Because Victor wanted the inheritance.”
“And Rebecca?”
“Helen took her too.”
“Why?”
“To control Victor.”
I stared.
This wasn't a family.
It was a battlefield.
Three women had been turned into weapons.
And now Lily was being pulled into the same war.
A detective entered.
“We found Clara.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“She walked into a hospital.”
“Is she hurt?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“She was shot.”
I stood.
“By whom?”
“She says she doesn't know.”
“Can I see her?”
The detective hesitated.
Then nodded.
Clara lay in a hospital bed.
A bandage wrapped her shoulder.
When she saw me, tears filled her eyes.
“You look exactly like her.”
“Maria?”
She nodded.
Then looked toward Rebecca.
Rebecca stood in the doorway.
Clara whispered:
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Helen wasn't trying to punish you.”
“She was trying to make you disappear.”
Clara shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“To force Victor out.”
I stared.
“Victor is alive?”
Clara nodded.
“I've met him.”
“When?”
“Before the shooting.”
“Where?”
“Your mother's house.”
I felt cold.
“What's he planning?”
Clara looked at Lily through the glass.
“He wants the baby.”
My blood ran cold.
“Why?”
Clara swallowed.
“Because the trust changed.”
“What changed?”
“Maria added a final clause.”
“What clause?”
“Her biological granddaughter inherits everything if the original beneficiaries are deceased or missing.”
I stared at Lily.
The seven million dollars weren't just tied to me and Rebecca.
If something happened to us, the money would go to Lily.
Victor knew.
Helen knew.
And suddenly the fire made sense.
My baby wasn't the enemy.
She was the final key.
Clara grabbed my wrist.
“You need to leave.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
“Why?”
She looked at the door.
“Because Victor knows we're here.”
The hospital lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the hallway went dark.
Someone screamed.
A gunshot echoed.
Clara pulled me down.
“Don't move!”
Emergency lights came on.
Outside the room, footsteps approached.
Slow.
Calm.
Measured.
The door handle moved.
Clara whispered:
“He found us.”
The door opened.
A man stepped inside.
Gray hair.
Black coat.
A scar across his cheek.
I had seen his face before.
In my memories.
Victor Hale.
He looked at me.
Then at Lily.
And smiled.
May you like
“Finally,” he said.
“My family is together.”
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