Chapter 7: The Daughter My Mother Tried to Protect
I stared at the photograph on my phone until the image blurred.
The woman standing outside the coffee shop was a stranger.
But she had my mother's eyes.
The same eyes that used to look at me across our tiny kitchen table when she thought I wasn't paying attention.
The same eyes that softened whenever she heard music.
The same eyes that had looked at me the night before she died and whispered:
"Promise me you will never stop searching for the truth.""
I had thought the truth was about why she left.
Why she disappeared.
Why she spent years carrying a secret she refused to share.
I never imagined the truth had a face.
A face that looked like mine.
"Where is she?"" I asked.
Nobody answered immediately.
That was when I realized everyone in the room knew something I didn't.
Again.
I turned toward Weston.
"Don't.""
He looked at me.
"What?""
"Don't look at me like you feel sorry for me.""
His expression tightened.
"I'm not.""
"You are.""
I held up the phone.
"Everyone keeps looking at me like I'm the last person to arrive at my own life.""
The words stayed in the air.
Weston looked down.
Because he knew I was right.
Adrian walked closer.
"The woman in the picture is Liana.""
I looked at him.
"You know where she is?""
"Yes.""
My heart jumped.
"Then take me to her.""
Adrian hesitated.
That hesitation made my anger rise.
"No.""
He looked at me.
"No?""
"No more hesitation.""
I pointed at the photograph.
"That is my sister.""
My voice shook.
"I have spent my entire life thinking I had nobody.""
Nobody moved.
"I lost my mother.""
I swallowed.
"I lost the truth.""
I looked at Weston.
"I lost twenty years.""
Then I looked back at Adrian.
"I'm not losing another minute.""
Adrian studied me.
Then he nodded.
"All right.""
Weston immediately stepped forward.
"No.""
Everyone looked at him.
His voice was sharper than before.
"You can't just take her there.""
I stared.
"Why not?""
"Because we don't know who sent that message.""
"And?""
"And it could be a trap.""
I laughed quietly.
"Of course.""
Weston frowned.
"What?""
"You suddenly care about traps.""
The words hit.
"You knew I was being watched.""
"I suspected.""
"You knew.""
"I was trying to handle it.""
I stepped closer.
"That's not protection.""
His jaw tightened.
"What is it then?""
"Control.""
The word landed hard.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Weston looked away.
Because maybe somewhere inside, he knew I was right.
Odalys quietly picked up her coat.
Everyone looked at her.
"I'm coming.""
Weston stared.
"What?""
She looked at him.
"I said I'm coming.""
"Odalys, this isn't safe.""
She gave a small, bitter smile.
"Interesting.""
"What?""
"That sentence sounds exactly like every excuse you have used tonight.""
She walked toward the door.
"I spent years being told I didn't need to know things.""
Her eyes moved to me.
"I know what it feels like to discover your entire life has missing pages.""
Nobody argued.
Not even Weston.
Twenty minutes later, we were in Adrian's car.
The city passed outside the windows in streaks of light.
Nobody spoke.
Everyone was carrying something.
A secret.
A regret.
A fear.
I stared at the photograph again.
Liana.
My sister.
The thought still felt impossible.
"How old was she when Clara left her?"" I asked.
Adrian kept his eyes on the road.
"Six months.""
I closed my eyes.
Six months.
A baby.
My mother had carried the pain of leaving her.
For years.
"Why didn't she take her?""
Adrian was quiet.
Then he answered.
"Because your mother knew someone was looking for her.""
"And she thought I was safer?""
"Yes.""
I looked out the window.
"So she chose one daughter over another.""
"No.""
Adrian's voice was firm.
"Never think that.""
I looked at him.
"Then what?""
"Your mother didn't choose.""
He paused.
"She sacrificed.""
The word hurt.
Because I understood it.
But I hated it.
"She should have told me.""
"Yes.""
Adrian didn't defend her.
That surprised me.
"She should have told you.""
He looked in the rearview mirror.
"But she was afraid.""
"Of what?""
"That the truth would put you in danger.""
I looked down.
"Was she right?""
Nobody answered.
That was enough.
The car stopped outside a small apartment building on the edge of the city.
Nothing about it looked special.
No security.
No luxury.
No sign that someone connected to the Voss family had ever lived there.
Adrian turned off the engine.
"She's inside.""
My heartbeat became louder.
"How do we do this?""
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
How do you introduce yourself to someone who doesn't know you exist?
How do you say:
Hello, I'm your sister. Our mother loved you. She just couldn't tell me about you.
How do you explain twenty years of silence?
We walked upstairs.
Each step felt heavier.
Adrian stopped outside a door.
Apartment 4B.
He knocked.
Once.
Twice.
No answer.
He looked concerned.
Then he knocked again.
"Liana?""
Silence.
I felt panic rise.
"Maybe she's not home.""
Adrian shook his head.
"Her car is outside.""
Weston looked down the hallway.
"Something's wrong.""
The door was slightly open.
Just a small gap.
Adrian pushed it carefully.
"Liana?""
Nobody answered.
The apartment was dark.
Too dark.
"Stay behind me," Weston said.
I almost laughed.
After everything.
But I didn't.
Because his voice wasn't controlling.
It was afraid.
We entered slowly.
The apartment was small but neat.
A cup of coffee sat on the table.
Still warm.
A book was open beside it.
Everything looked normal.
Except one thing.
A photograph frame lay broken on the floor.
I walked toward it.
My hands trembled.
The picture inside was old.
A woman holding a baby.
My mother.
And Liana.
I touched the glass.
For the first time, I saw my mother as someone else's mother.
Not just mine.
A sound came from the bedroom.
Everyone turned.
A woman stepped out.
I froze.
Because the photograph had not prepared me.
She wasn't just similar.
She was familiar.
Same dark hair.
Same expression when she was confused.
Same small scar near her eyebrow.
A scar I had.
She stared at me.
Then at Weston.
Then at Adrian.
Her face changed.
"What is he doing here?""
Her voice was cautious.
Adrian stepped forward.
"Liana.""
She looked at him.
Then back at me.
"Who is she?""
Nobody spoke.
I couldn't.
My entire body forgot how.
Then Liana looked at the envelope in my hand.
The old envelope with our mother's handwriting.
Her face went pale.
"Where did you get that?""
I swallowed.
"My mother left it for me.""
The room went silent.
Liana shook her head.
"No.""
I felt my heart break.
"Yes.""
She stepped closer.
"No.""
Her eyes filled with confusion.
"My mother died when I was a baby.""
I froze.
"What?""
She looked at Adrian.
"Who is this woman?""
Adrian didn't answer.
Liana looked at me.
"Why do you have my mother's things?""
The question cut deeper than anything else.
Because she didn't know.
She truly didn't know.
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then Weston spoke.
Quietly.
"Because Clara Vale was her mother too.""
Liana turned toward him.
"What did you say?""
Nobody moved.
And then Liana looked at me again.
Like she was seeing me for the first time.
"Who are you?""
I took a breath.
The hardest sentence of my life waiting on my tongue.
"I'm Elara.""
A pause.
"I'm your sister.""
The room went completely still.
Liana stared.
Then she whispered:
"No.""
I expected anger.
I expected denial.
I expected questions.
I didn't expect fear.
Her eyes moved toward the window.
Then toward the door.
Then back to me.
"How did they find you?""
I froze.
"What?""
She stepped backward.
"How did they find you?""
Adrian's face changed.
"Find her?""
Liana looked at all of us.
Her voice dropped.
"You're not supposed to be here.""
The words chilled me.
"Why?""
She looked at the envelope.
Then at Weston.
And finally at me.
"Because my mother told me one thing before she died.""
A pause.
"She told me if Elara Vale ever found me...""
May you like
Her eyes filled with fear.
"...it meant the people who killed her had found me too.""
