Chapter 5 - The Photograph of Two Women With the Same Face
Roman watched the footage again.
The woman outside the archive had Claire's dark hair, her narrow shoulders, and the same delicate features.
But something was different.
The woman moved with confidence.
Her posture was straight.
And she wore a small silver cross around her neck.
Claire had never worn one.
“Who is she?” Roman asked.
Aaron shook his head.
“We haven't identified her.”
Roman looked at the timestamp.
Six months and four days earlier.
Three days before Daniel's boating accident.
“Find out who entered the estate that day.”
Aaron reviewed the visitor log.
There was one entry.
Anna Mercer.
Roman remembered Natalie's words.
My mother used to call her Anna.
“Bring Natalie.”
When she entered, Roman showed her the image.
Natalie stopped walking.
“Oh, my God.”
“You recognize her?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Natalie sat down hard.
“That's Sophie.”
Roman stared.
“Your sister?”
Natalie nodded.
“No,” he said. “You told me Sophie was hospitalized.”
“She was. She disappeared from her treatment facility for two days.”
“And you never mentioned it?”
“I didn't know where she went.”
Roman enlarged the image again.
Sophie looked healthy.
Not like the woman in the photograph Natalie had shown him.
“Why would she use the name Anna Mercer?”
Natalie swallowed.
“Because that was the name on the hospital records when she was born.”
Roman remembered the photograph from the archive.
The woman holding a baby.
The mother he was told had died.
He looked at Natalie.
“Who gave birth to Sophie?”
Natalie lowered her head.
“I don't know for certain.”
“Natalie.”
“My mother always said Sophie was her daughter. But toward the end, when she was sick, she sometimes called Sophie by another name.”
“What name?”
“Elena.”
Roman felt his chest tighten.
He looked toward Aaron.
“Get Margaret Ellis back here.”
But before Aaron could move, Roman's phone rang.
It was Claire.
He answered immediately.
“Is everything all right?”
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
“Someone tried to enter my father's hospital room.”
Roman stood.
“Where are you?”
“Still at the hospital. The nurse said a man showed an old physician's badge and asked to review my father's records.”
“Did he get in?”
“No. They stopped him.”
Roman exchanged a glance with Aaron.
“Did you get his name?”
Claire hesitated.
“Dr. Calvin Price.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Price was moving faster than they were.
“Stay with the nurse. Aaron is sending security.”
“Roman?”
“Yes?”
“There's something I need to tell you.”
He waited.
“I remembered why my father kept that hospital card.”
“What do you mean?”
“He used to take it out every Christmas. He'd stare at it and cry.”
Roman said nothing.
“Once, when I was sixteen, I asked why.”
“What did he say?”
Claire's voice grew softer.
“He said he had spent his whole life protecting somebody else's daughter while failing his own.”
Roman gripped the phone.
“Claire, did your father ever say you were adopted?”
“No.”
“Did he ever talk about your mother?”
“She died when I was little. That's what he told me.”
Roman felt another painful possibility opening.
But he refused to jump to conclusions.
“I'm coming to see you.”
When he arrived at the hospital, Claire was sitting in a waiting room with her injured hand resting on a pillow.
She looked exhausted.
Roman sat beside her.
“I'm sorry your father has been drawn into this.”
Claire shook her head.
“Please stop apologizing for things you didn't do.”
Roman glanced at her.
“Some of them happened in my house.”
“That doesn't mean you knew.”
“No,” Roman replied. “But I should have known.”
Claire studied him for a moment.
Then she asked, “Do you think my father is alive?”
Roman met her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever took him needs something he knows.”
She looked down.
“That doesn't sound reassuring.”
“It isn't.”
Roman paused.
“But it gives us time.”
He placed the silver bracelet on the table.
Claire touched it with her good hand.
“Where did you get that?”
“My brother kept it.”
She examined the three stars.
“My father used to draw those.”
Roman went still.
“Draw what?”
“Three little stars in a row. On birthday cards. Grocery lists. Even the notes he left on the refrigerator.”
Roman remembered something from his childhood.
Daniel had drawn three stars too.
Always three.
Never two.
Never four.
Their mother had taught him.
“Claire, did your father ever explain why?”
She shook her head.
“He said it meant that nobody was ever completely alone.”
Roman stared at the bracelet.
A childhood symbol.
A shared memory.
Another invisible thread connecting families that should have been strangers.
Later that afternoon, Aaron found Thomas Reed.
The maintenance worker had been hiding in a modest house outside Pittsburgh.
Roman visited him personally.
Thomas was a tired man with shaking hands.
His wife sat beside him.
“Daniel asked me to keep an eye on the archive,” Thomas explained.
“Why?”
“He believed someone was changing the estate's old records.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked afraid.
“I never knew. But Daniel said the person had access to the family trust.”
Roman waited.
Thomas reached into a kitchen drawer and removed an old pocket watch.
It had belonged to Roman's father.
Roman recognized the engraved initials.
V.C.
“Daniel gave me this,” Thomas said. “Told me to keep it if anything happened.”
Roman opened it.
The hands had stopped at 9:06.
The exact time someone had entered the archive.
Inside the back cover was a folded piece of paper.
Roman unfolded it.
There were three names.
Eleanor Cross.
Anna Mercer.
Patrick Sullivan.
And beneath them, in Daniel's handwriting:
One woman raised Roman. One woman gave birth to him. One man knows why.
Roman stared at the words.
His entire childhood had been built on a lie.
But the next discovery hurt worse.
Thomas produced a second piece of paper.
A child's drawing of a house.
Three people stood outside.
A tall man.
A woman.
A little boy holding her hand.
Across the top, in uneven letters, someone had written:
MY REAL FAMILY.
Roman recognized the boy.
It was Daniel.
Then he looked at the woman's face.
The child had drawn long dark hair and a silver necklace.
Underneath, Daniel had written:
MY MOM ANNA.
Roman felt dizzy.
Daniel had known the woman who gave birth to Roman.
And perhaps she had been Daniel's mother too.
He looked at Thomas.
“Where did Daniel get this?”
Thomas's eyes filled with tears.
“He found it in your father's coat.”
Roman gripped the drawing.
Thomas lowered his voice.
“And Daniel told me that if you ever saw it, I had to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
Thomas looked toward his wife.
Then back at Roman.
“Your father didn't steal one child, Mr. Castellano.”
May you like
He swallowed.
“He stole two.”
