Daniel remained perfectly still.
"A girl?"
Evelyn nodded.
"How old?"
"About eight."
"Was she Mara?"
"I don't know."
Daniel stared.
"You don't know?"
"Your father wouldn't tell me her name."
"Why?"
"Because he was afraid someone was following him."
"When was this?"
"1998."
Daniel looked at the signature.
"So Dad found one of his sisters."
"Maybe."
"What happened to the girl?"
Evelyn's eyes filled.
"She stayed one night."
"One night?"
"She was gone the next morning."
"Where did she go?"
"I don't know."
Daniel's voice rose.
"You keep telling me you don't know!"
"I watched her leave."
"With whom?"
"A woman."
"Who?"
"I couldn't see her face."
"Did Dad go with them?"
"No."
"Then why didn't you stop them?"
"Because your father told me to let her go."
Daniel stepped away.
"That doesn't make sense."
"I know."
"Did Dad know where she was going?"
"He said she would be safer."
"Safer than here?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't he tell you?"
"Because he believed someone was listening."
Daniel looked around the room.
The old house suddenly seemed full of hidden spaces.
"Did he leave anything behind?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"He left a note."
"Where?"
"I destroyed it."
Daniel stared.
"Why?"
"Because it had her name."
"What name?"
Evelyn looked at the hospital bracelets.
"Mara."
Daniel sat heavily.
"She was alive."
"Probably."
"You saw her."
"I saw a girl who might have been her."
"Did she look like the photograph?"
"She had the same eyes."
"Mom."
"I know."
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
"Then why did Dad tell me nothing?"
"He thought the less you knew, the safer you would be."
"And you agreed."
"I had no choice."
"You always had a choice."
Evelyn looked wounded.
"I chose you."
The anger in Daniel's face softened for a moment.
Then he noticed something on the table.
The photograph of the three children.
He picked it up.
"Wait."
"What?"
"The girl."
He pointed to Mara.
"Look at her left hand."
Evelyn leaned closer.
There was a small crescent-shaped scar beneath her thumb.
Evelyn's breathing stopped.
"What?"
"I know that scar."
"From where?"
Evelyn touched the photograph.
"She got it when she was little."
"How?"
"She cut her hand on a broken bottle."
"How do you know?"
"Clara told me."
Daniel looked at the photograph again.
Then at his mother.
"Why would Clara know?"
"Because Clara worked at St. Agnes."
Daniel's head snapped up.
"You said she didn't."
"I said she wasn't employed there."
"That's not the same thing."
Evelyn looked away.
"She volunteered."
"For how long?"
"Several years."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because she wasn't supposed to."
Daniel's voice dropped.
"She was looking for the children."
"Yes."
"And she found them."
"Yes."
"But only Jonah came home."
"Yes."
Daniel walked to the window.
He stared at the street.
"No wonder she disappeared."
Evelyn did not respond.
Daniel turned.
"What happened to Clara?"
"I think she was killed."
The answer came quietly.
Daniel swallowed.
"Do you have proof?"
"No."
"Then why do you think that?"
"Because she sent me one final letter."
"Where is it?"
Evelyn pointed toward the box.
Daniel searched through the envelopes.
At the very bottom was a letter sealed with dark wax.
His name was written on it.
*Daniel.**
He looked at his mother.
"I've never seen this."
"I have."
"When?"
"After your father died."
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
"Because I was afraid."
Daniel broke the seal.
The letter contained only a page.
It explained that Clara had discovered the children's records had been altered.
She believed Mara and Ella had been moved to separate families.
She also believed someone inside the system had continued tracking them.
Then came the final paragraph.
If you're reading this, the money has started moving again.*
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
The letter continued.
They will use an old name to make you curious.*
His eyes moved to the next line.
Do not trust the person who claims Jonah never existed.*
Daniel stopped.
"Mom."
She stared at him.
"Who says Dad never existed?"
"I don't know."
The final sentence made his hands go cold.
The third child is not the one you think.*
Daniel read it again.
Then again.
"What does that mean?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't know."
Daniel looked at the bracelets.
"Mara. Ella. Jonah."
"Yes."
"The third child is not the one you think."
"Maybe Clara meant one of the names was false."
"Then which one?"
Evelyn looked toward the family album.
Daniel followed her gaze.
His childhood photographs.
His father's wedding photograph.
His own birth record.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it.
He opened the album to the first page.
A photograph of his parents stood there.
On the back, beneath the date, was a handwritten note.
*Three children. One family.**
Daniel stared.
"Mom."
She looked at it.
"I've never seen that."
"Then who wrote it?"
Evelyn took the photograph.
Her fingers went rigid.
"Your father."
"How do you know?"
"Because of the handwriting."
Daniel took it back.
"That doesn't prove anything."
"No."
"What would?"
Evelyn looked toward the stairs.
"The room upstairs."
"What room?"
"Your father's."
Daniel frowned.
"You told me everything was cleared out after he died."
"I lied."
"Why?"
"Because he left something there."
"What?"
Evelyn's voice became barely audible.
"A photograph."
"Of Mara?"
"No."
"Of Ella?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Evelyn looked at him.
"Of you."
Daniel frowned.
"I have thousands of photographs."
"Not this one."
She walked upstairs.
Daniel followed.
At the end of the hallway, Evelyn unlocked a door he had never seen open.
Inside was a small room covered in dust.
A desk.
A filing cabinet.
A locked trunk.
Evelyn knelt beside it.
"There."
She opened the trunk.
Inside was a single photograph.
Daniel picked it up.
His hands began to shake.
It showed three children standing beside a woman.
The boy in the center was Jonah.
The girl on the left was Mara.
The girl on the right was Ella.
And behind them stood a woman Daniel recognized.
Not from his childhood.
Not from family photographs.
But from the photograph at the old station.
Marjorie Vale.
On the back, written in his father's hand, were six words.
*She raised them after St. Agnes.**
Daniel looked at Evelyn.
"You said they disappeared."
"I thought they had."
He turned the photograph over again.
A second sentence was written beneath the first.
*One of them became her enemy.**
Daniel's phone vibrated.
A new message appeared.
*You finally found the picture.**
Then another.
*Now ask your mother which sister she saved.**
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Answer Evelyn Gave About the Sisters Forced Daniel to Question the One Memory From Childhood He Had Always Trusted
The Transfer That Should Have Arrived Quietly, But Instead Opened a Door Neither of Us Knew Existed
Part 7 of 25
