Chapter 11 - THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Sophie stared at the Polaroid, the bustling noise of the bakery completely fading away.
“I don't have a sister,” Sophie whispered, her fingers tracing the terrified girl’s face in the photo. “My mother never told me I had a sister.”
Mr. Sterling adjusted his glasses. “According to the files we recovered, your mother gave birth to twins. But twenty years ago, she couldn't afford to keep both of you. One was placed in a closed adoption.”
Matteo stepped closer, his protective instincts instantly flaring. “Why did Arthur Whitmore have a picture of her with my late wife?”
“Because Arthur didn't just stumble upon your wife’s plan to expose him, Matteo,” Sterling said grimly. “Elena had hired a private investigator to find Sophie’s sister. She was trying to rescue her.”
“Rescue her from what?” Sophie asked, her chest tightening.
Sterling pointed to the background of the photograph. It was a bleak, iron-gated building. “From Arthur. He legally adopted the girl eighteen years ago. He raised her.”
The room spun.
“Vanessa,” Sophie breathed, horror washing over her. “Vanessa is my twin sister?”
“No,” Matteo interrupted, shaking his head. “Vanessa is thirty. You’re twenty-five. The timelines don't match.”
“You’re right, Matteo,” Sterling confirmed. “Vanessa was Arthur’s biological daughter. But he adopted another girl to use as leverage in his international dealings. A ghost. Someone with no legal ties to the Whitmore name.”
Sophie looked back at the picture. “Where is she now?”
“We don't know,” Sterling admitted. “When Arthur was arrested last year, she vanished. But we found something else in the box.”
Sterling handed Sophie a small, silver key. It matched the intricate design of the locket Rosie had given her a year ago.
“It’s a locker key for the central train station,” Sterling said. “The same station Elena was trying to reach the night she died.”
Matteo took Sophie’s hand. “We’re going.”
They left Mrs. Parker in charge of the bakery and drove in silence to the massive, echoing hall of Chicago’s central station.
They found locker 402 tucked away in a dusty corridor.
Sophie’s hand shook as she slid the silver key into the lock. It turned with a heavy click.
She opened the metal door.
Inside sat a worn leather duffel bag.
Sophie pulled it out and unzipped it.
There were no weapons. No cartel money.
Instead, the bag was filled with hundreds of letters. Every single one was addressed to Sophie.
Sophie opened the top letter. It was dated five years ago.
“Dear Sophie, if you ever find this, know that I never stopped looking for you. Arthur keeps me locked away, but I hear things. I know he’s planning something terrible for a family named DeLuca. I’m going to try to stop him. If I don't make it, don't let my death be for nothing. Live a beautiful life for both of us. — Lily.”
A tear fell onto the old paper.
May you like
Suddenly, a soft voice echoed from the end of the corridor.
“You actually came.”
