Chapter 7 - The Woman Who Had My FaceI arrived at my childhood home at 9:02 a.m.
The police had cleared the property.
The gates were locked.
Nobody entered without security.
I walked through the front door with Marcus, Daniel and Claire behind me.
My childhood home was enormous.
Forty-two rooms.
Two staircases.
A glass conservatory.
Servants' quarters.
A private library.
And a basement my father had always forbidden me to enter.
I had never questioned him.
Until today.
The old housekeeper, Mrs. Bell, was waiting in the hallway.
She looked at me.
Then at Marcus.
Then at Daniel.
"Why are you here?"
I held up the photograph.
"Who is Sophie?"
Mrs. Bell dropped the tray in her hands.
The porcelain shattered.
Claire took one step forward.
"Mrs. Bell?"
The old woman began to cry.
"I knew this day would come."
My heart pounded.
"You know her."
Mrs. Bell nodded.
"Yes."
"Where is she?"
She pointed toward the back staircase.
"Downstairs."
Marcus went still.
"The basement?"
Mrs. Bell nodded.
My father had always called it the archive room.
He kept old records there.
Deeds.
Photographs.
Tax documents.
Family papers.
I unlocked the basement door.
The stairs descended into darkness.
Daniel followed me.
"Stay behind me."
"I don't need protecting."
"I know."
"Then stop acting like I'm fragile."
He stopped.
"You're not."
His voice was quiet.
"That's what scares me."
I ignored him.
We entered the archive.
Rows of cabinets lined the walls.
Mrs. Bell followed.
She walked toward the far corner.
There was a shelf with a false wooden panel.
She pressed it.
A section of wall moved.
Behind it was a narrow room.
And sitting inside that room was a woman.
She looked about thirty-five.
Dark hair.
Pale skin.
A small scar beside her eyebrow.
She stood.
And I forgot how to breathe.
She had my father's eyes.
But there was something else.
Something disturbingly familiar.
The curve of her mouth.
The shape of her hands.
The same tiny birthmark near the wrist.
My wrist.
I stared.
"Who are you?"
The woman swallowed.
"Sophie."
My knees nearly gave out.
Marcus whispered:
"Dear God."
Sophie looked at him.
"You finally came."
I stepped forward.
"Why are you in my father's house?"
She smiled sadly.
"Because it was my house too."
My heart raced.
"Are you his daughter?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't I know?"
She laughed softly.
"Because he didn't want you to know."
I stared.
"Why?"
"Because you were the legitimate heir."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does when you understand what your father did."
She walked toward an old desk.
Pulled out a file.
"Thomas Mercer had two daughters."
She looked at me.
"You."
Then herself.
"The secret one."
I shook my head.
"Why hide you?"
"He didn't."
I froze.
"Then who did?"
Sophie looked toward Marcus.
He closed his eyes.
"My mother."
Rose.
I remembered my father's video.
"Why?"
"Because Rose was terrified."
"Of what?"
Sophie opened the file.
Inside were photographs of a younger Thomas Mercer.
Rose.
And a man I didn't recognize.
My blood turned cold.
"Who is he?"
Sophie answered:
"Robert Brooks."
Daniel stepped forward.
"My father?"
Sophie nodded.
"He knew about me."
Daniel's face hardened.
"How?"
"Because your father and mine were partners."
"In what?"
Sophie looked at me.
"The network."
Silence.
I stared.
"My father was laundering money?"
"Yes."
"And Robert Brooks helped him."
"Yes."
"Then why did Dad pretend to be innocent?"
"Because he wasn't the architect."
My stomach dropped.
"Who was?"
Sophie slowly pointed at Marcus.
I stared at him.
Marcus didn't move.
Sophie whispered:
"Your father's attorney."
The room went silent.
I looked at Marcus.
"Is that true?"
He looked older suddenly.
Much older.
"I was involved."
Daniel stepped in front of me.
"You've been helping them."
"No."
Marcus shook his head.
"I tried to stop it."
Sophie laughed.
"You helped build it."
Marcus looked at her.
"You don't know what happened."
"My mother died because of you."
The words hung in the air.
Marcus lowered his head.
"I know."
Daniel looked at me.
"Get out."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Hannah."
"No."
I looked at Marcus.
"Tell me everything."
He hesitated.
Then reached into his jacket.
Pulled out a sealed document.
"I was waiting for the right time."
I took it.
There was one name on the front.
Hannah Mercer.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter from my father.
I read:
Hannah,
If Marcus gives you this letter, then I am already dead and the network has begun moving.
There is one person you must never trust.
I looked at Marcus.
The next line made my blood freeze.
It is not Daniel.
It is not Claire.
It is not Sophie.
It is the one person who has been closest to you since childhood.
I stopped.
May you like
I read the final sentence.
It is your mother.
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