Chapter 7 - The Third Sister
Claire stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.
Three little girls.
Matching dresses.
Matching dark hair.
Matching smiles.
One held a yellow stuffed rabbit.
One leaned against Elaine's shoulder.
The third sat slightly apart, staring directly into the camera.
Hannah.
Claire.
Evelyn.
Claire had spent almost thirty years believing she was an only child.
Now she was looking at two sisters.
One rescued from a prison beneath her home.
The other missing.
She turned the photograph over.
Beneath the names, Elaine had written a date.
June 14, 1990.
Claire frowned.
"That's not our birthday."
Daniel looked over her shoulder.
"What?"
"We were born in 1988."
Hayes examined the photograph.
"Then this was taken when you were two."
Claire nodded slowly.
She looked at the little girl on the right.
Evelyn.
Her expression was serious.
Almost wary.
Claire felt a strange sadness.
"What happened to her?"
Nobody answered.
Hannah stared at the photograph in silence.
Claire sat beside her hospital bed.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Hannah reached out and touched the third little girl's face.
"Evelyn."
Claire looked up.
"You remember her?"
Hannah nodded.
"Pieces."
Claire swallowed.
"What pieces?"
Hannah closed her eyes.
"She used to sing."
Claire waited.
"Mom taught us a song about three stars."
Claire felt her throat tighten.
"I remember."
Hannah smiled through tears.
"She said the stars would always find each other."
Claire looked down at the photograph.
"Where did Evelyn go?"
Hannah's smile disappeared.
She swallowed.
"Margaret took her first."
Claire went cold.
"When?"
"Before they took me."
Claire stared.
Hannah continued.
"Mom thought Evelyn had been adopted."
"Was she?"
Hannah shook her head.
"I don't know."
Claire looked toward the window.
Her mother had spent years searching for two daughters.
One had been locked beneath the Bennett mansion.
The other had vanished into Margaret's network.
And Claire had lived an ordinary childhood beside the woman who knew exactly how much was missing.
The microfilm contained clinic records.
Some were difficult to read.
Others were startlingly clear.
Names.
Dates.
Procedures.
Payments.
Adoption arrangements.
And a list of children transferred between facilities.
Hayes brought in a forensic document examiner.
By evening, they had identified dozens of potentially falsified records.
One entry concerned three girls born to Elaine Morgan.
The file showed that the children were biologically identical triplets.
But the documents had been altered.
Claire was listed as remaining with Elaine.
Hannah was marked deceased.
Evelyn was marked transferred.
No receiving family was named.
Claire stared.
"Transferred where?"
The examiner shook his head.
"That entry is missing."
Hayes leaned forward.
"Can we trace the authorization number?"
"Possibly."
The examiner enlarged the record.
A six-digit code appeared beside Evelyn's name.
M-031788.
Claire frowned.
"That number looks familiar."
Daniel leaned closer.
"Why?"
Claire searched her memory.
Then she remembered the account statements Margaret had sent every Christmas.
A charitable trust.
A small annual distribution.
A fund supposedly established in honor of Daniel's grandparents.
The account number began with the same six digits.
Claire looked up.
"Margaret has been paying someone."
Hayes turned.
"What?"
"Every year. Through the foundation."
Claire pulled out her phone.
She opened an archived financial statement.
The number matched.
Hayes studied it.
Then his expression changed.
"The payment recipient is listed as Evelyn Morgan."
Claire stared.
Her missing sister had been receiving money.
For years.
But the address belonged to a property management company.
Claire looked toward Daniel.
"Your mother knew where she was."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Claire's voice hardened.
"And she made sure nobody else did."
The property stood in New York City.
A luxury apartment on the forty-second floor.
Its lease had been paid by a company linked to the Bennett Foundation.
When investigators entered, the apartment was empty.
But someone had left in a hurry.
A coffee cup sat beside the sink.
Clothes lay on the bedroom floor.
An open suitcase rested on the bed.
And photographs covered one wall.
Claire stared at them.
Every photograph showed her.
At restaurants.
At charity events.
Entering hospitals.
Walking beside Daniel.
Holding Lily.
Some were taken from a distance.
Others were close enough to reveal details of her makeup and hairstyle.
Hayes looked around.
"What the hell is this?"
Claire felt sick.
On a table beside the photographs lay several wigs.
Contact lenses.
A makeup kit.
And a notebook.
Claire opened it.
Inside were handwritten observations.
Claire prefers coffee without sugar.
Claire signs with her left hand angled upward.
Claire touches her necklace when nervous.
Claire avoids wearing red.
Claire covered her mouth.
Someone had studied her.
Not casually.
Obsessively.
For years.
Hayes examined the notebook.
"Your sister was being trained to impersonate you."
Claire looked toward the mirror.
Her own face stared back.
But suddenly she wasn't sure how many women had worn it.
That night, Daniel received an email from an unknown address.
The subject line contained two words.
YOUR WIFE.
Inside was a video.
A woman who looked exactly like Claire sat across from a man in a private restaurant.
She wore a green dress.
Her hair was pinned up.
She laughed.
Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
Daniel stared.
Claire felt her stomach drop.
"That's not me."
He looked at her.
"I know."
Claire turned.
"Do you?"
Daniel's face tightened.
She remembered a terrible argument two years earlier.
Daniel had accused her of meeting another man.
He'd shown her a photograph.
A blurry image of a woman entering a hotel.
Claire had denied it.
Margaret had told Daniel that Claire was emotionally unstable.
Eventually, Daniel had apologized.
But something between them had changed.
Claire looked at the video.
"That was Evelyn."
Daniel lowered his eyes.
Claire stared at him.
"Your mother used my sister to make you think I was cheating."
Daniel nodded.
His face was pale.
Claire continued.
"And you believed her."
He swallowed.
"Yes."
Claire stepped backward.
For six years, she'd tried to understand why Daniel sometimes looked at her as if he didn't know her.
Now she knew.
Margaret hadn't simply lied.
She had manufactured evidence.
She had created a second Claire.
One who could sign documents.
Meet strangers.
Commit crimes.
Destroy relationships.
And disappear.
Claire walked toward the bedroom.
The closet was filled with clothes identical to hers.
Same designer labels.
Same sizes.
Same shoes.
She opened a drawer.
Inside lay a wedding ring.
An exact copy of the one Daniel had given her.
Claire picked it up.
Her hands shook.
Then she found a photograph.
Evelyn stood beside Lily.
The little girl was asleep.
Evelyn held her gently.
On the back, someone had written:
SHE BELIEVES I'M HER MOTHER.
Claire stared.
Her chest tightened.
The photograph had been taken three years earlier.
During a week Claire had spent recovering from surgery.
Daniel had been overseas.
Margaret had insisted Lily stay with her.
Claire turned toward Hayes.
"My daughter has been alone with her."
He looked up.
Claire held out the photograph.
"Evelyn."
Hayes stared.
Claire whispered, "Lily may not have known which woman was holding her."
At 11:12 p.m., a woman entered the apartment.
She was wearing a gray coat.
Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail.
She stopped when she saw the police.
Then she saw Claire.
For one moment, the two women stared at each other.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same mouth.
The woman looked as if she had stepped through a mirror.
Claire couldn't move.
"Evelyn?"
The woman swallowed.
"Hello, Claire."
Hayes stepped forward.
"Put your hands where I can see them."
Evelyn raised her hands.
She looked exhausted.
Her eyes were red.
Her wrists were bruised.
Claire stared.
"Where's Lily?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't know."
Claire stepped closer.
"Don't lie to me."
Evelyn's face crumpled.
"I'm not."
"Your photographs are everywhere."
"I know."
"You impersonated me."
"Yes."
"You tried to destroy my marriage."
Evelyn looked down.
"Yes."
Claire felt rage rising.
"WHY?"
Evelyn began crying.
"Because Margaret told me she'd kill my son."
Silence.
Claire stared.
"Your son?"
Evelyn nodded.
"Michael."
Hayes looked up.
"Where is he?"
Evelyn covered her mouth.
"Dead."
Claire felt the anger falter.
Evelyn continued.
"Margaret told me he died because I disobeyed her."
Her voice broke.
"I believed her for nine years."
Claire stared.
Evelyn looked directly into her eyes.
"Then I found his medical records."
Claire swallowed.
"What did they say?"
Evelyn's face changed.
Her grief hardened into something terrible.
"Dr. Voss used him in a trial without my consent."
Claire felt cold.
Evelyn continued.
"He wasn't sick."
She took a shaking breath.
"They made him sick."
Hayes stepped closer.
"Do you have the records?"
Evelyn nodded.
"Copies."
"Where?"
She looked toward Claire.
"Somewhere Margaret can't reach."
Claire stared.
Evelyn whispered, "I'll give you everything."
Then she looked toward the door.
"But we have to find Samuel first."
Claire's pulse accelerated.
"Why?"
May you like
Evelyn's eyes filled.
"Because Margaret is moving him tonight."
