Chapter 13 - The Sister Who Lived Under Another Name
# Chapter 13 - The Sister Who Lived Under Another Name
Sophia Grant had spent five years working for Charles Vance, believing he was the man who had rescued her from a childhood she could barely remember.
Now she knew he had helped steal that childhood.
And standing outside Whitmore House, with her phone pressed against her ear, she was finally ready to make him pay.
"Which one?" Charles demanded.
Sophia smiled bitterly.
"Which one what?"
"Which one of you is Edward planning to kill?"
She looked toward the mansion's dark windows.
"That's what frightens you, isn't it?"
"Sophia, this isn't a game."
"No. It stopped being a game when I found the death certificates."
Charles went silent.
Sophia continued.
"Three certificates. Three different girls. All named Elizabeth Whitmore."
Charles closed his eyes.
"Where did you find them?"
"Your private archive."
"That's impossible."
"You taught me everything I know about your security systems."
Charles's jaw tightened.
Sophia looked toward the woman standing beside her.
The stranger had introduced herself as Elizabeth.
She wore a dark green coat, and her face bore an unsettling resemblance to Victoria Vance.
But Sophia no longer knew whether the woman was her sister.
Or another victim wearing her sister's identity.
"Charles," Sophia said quietly, "tell me something."
"What?"
"Did you know who I was when you hired me?"
A long silence followed.
Then Charles answered.
"Yes."
Sophia felt something inside her break.
For five years, she had believed their meeting was accidental.
She had applied for a junior administrative position at Vance Holdings.
Charles had personally interviewed her.
He had praised her intelligence, offered her a generous salary, and eventually promoted her to executive assistant.
She had mistaken his attention for kindness.
Now she understood.
He had wanted her close.
Where he could watch her.
Control her.
And make sure she never discovered her real family.
"Why?" she whispered.
Charles hesitated.
"Because I wanted to protect you."
Sophia laughed.
The sound was sharp and joyless.
"You sound exactly like Edward."
Charles's voice hardened.
"You don't understand what he did."
"Then tell me."
He said nothing.
Sophia looked toward the mansion.
"Fine."
She ended the call.
Beside her, the woman in the green coat watched silently.
"Did he tell you?" the woman asked.
Sophia shook her head.
"No."
The woman smiled faintly.
"He never does."
Sophia turned toward her.
"Who are you really?"
The woman's expression changed.
For the first time, the confidence disappeared from her face.
"Someone who has been trying to find you for a very long time."
At St. Catherine's Medical Center, Victoria Vance stared at Sophia Grant's photograph.
Her husband's executive assistant.
The young woman who had organized birthday parties for Thomas, arranged family vacations, and personally delivered flowers to Victoria whenever Charles was away.
Sophia had been inside their home hundreds of times.
Victoria remembered her quiet efficiency.
Her careful manners.
The strange way she sometimes watched Thomas.
And one particular afternoon, three years earlier, when Sophia had found Victoria crying beside the memorial photograph of her first baby.
Sophia had stood in the doorway for several seconds.
Then she had whispered:
"I'm sorry you lost your child."
Victoria remembered answering:
"Thank you."
Sophia had looked as though she wanted to say something else.
But Charles entered the room.
And she immediately fell silent.
Now Victoria wondered what Sophia had known.
Detective Elena Brooks stood beside her.
"We're trying to verify the birth records."
Victoria looked up.
"Do you believe she's my daughter?"
"I believe someone wants you to think so. The documents and photographs raise serious questions, but we need independent confirmation."
Victoria looked toward the window.
"What if she is?"
Elena waited.
"What if I've been looking at my own daughter for years and never knew?"
Her voice broke.
Elena placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Then none of that was your choice."
Victoria closed her eyes.
She thought of Thomas.
Noah.
Daniel.
Elizabeth.
Sophia.
Children whose lives had been manipulated by adults who believed themselves entitled to decide everything.
She opened her eyes.
"I want to speak with her."
"Sophia?"
"Yes."
Elena nodded.
"We're trying to locate her."
Victoria shook her head.
"She won't answer the police."
"Why not?"
"Because Charles taught her not to trust anyone."
Elena studied her.
Victoria continued.
"But she might answer me."
At Whitmore House, Professor Edward Whitmore watched the security monitor as Sophia approached the gates.
The woman in the green coat remained several steps behind her.
Edward's hands trembled.
"Sophia," he whispered.
He had not seen her in person since she was a child.
At least, not without a camera between them.
For years, Charles had sent reports.
Photographs.
Medical summaries.
Behavioral assessments.
Edward had studied them with the detachment of a scientist.
But now, watching Sophia stand outside the gates, he felt something he had spent decades trying to suppress.
Shame.
A voice spoke behind him.
"Professor?"
He turned.
The woman who had brought his tea stood in the doorway.
"Open the gates," Edward said.
She hesitated.
"You told security not to admit them."
"I've changed my mind."
"Are you certain?"
Edward looked back at the monitor.
Sophia was staring directly into the camera.
"Yes."
The woman nodded and left.
Edward reached toward the desk.
His fingers brushed a sealed envelope.
On the front was written:
For Victoria, if I die before telling her the truth.
He had prepared it fifteen years earlier.
Then hidden it.
Every year, he had considered sending it.
Every year, he found another reason not to.
Now he wondered whether he had waited too long.
Inside the mansion, Sophia followed a security guard through the entrance hall.
The house smelled of polished wood and old books.
Sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, casting colored patterns across the marble floor.
Sophia had seen photographs of Whitmore House.
But being inside it felt strangely familiar.
She stopped beside the staircase.
A memory surfaced.
A little girl running down the steps.
A woman calling after her.
A hand reaching for the banister.
Sophia gripped the railing.
The guard turned.
"Miss Grant?"
She blinked.
"Sorry."
"Professor Whitmore is waiting."
Sophia nodded.
The woman in the green coat walked beside her.
They entered the study.
Edward sat in his wheelchair near the fireplace.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Sophia stepped forward.
"Professor Whitmore."
Edward looked at her.
"My dear girl."
She felt anger rise.
"Don't call me that."
He lowered his eyes.
Sophia placed a folder on his desk.
"These are the records I found."
Edward stared at it.
"Where did you get them?"
"Charles's archive."
He opened the folder.
His expression changed.
Sophia watched him carefully.
"Are they real?"
Edward did not answer.
"Professor."
He looked up.
"Some of them."
Sophia felt sick.
"Which ones?"
Edward hesitated.
"The birth records were altered."
She stared at him.
"Then who am I?"
Edward looked toward the woman in the green coat.
His expression became unreadable.
Sophia noticed.
"You know her."
Edward said nothing.
The woman stepped forward.
"Tell her."
Edward closed his eyes.
"Elizabeth—"
Sophia turned sharply.
"That's her name?"
The woman nodded.
"Yes."
Sophia looked back at Edward.
"Then why are there three death certificates?"
Edward's hands trembled.
"Because the program used more than one child under the same identity."
Sophia stared at him.
"How many?"
He hesitated.
"Three."
The woman in green stepped closer.
"And which one am I?"
Edward looked at her.
For the first time, genuine fear crossed his face.
"I don't know."
At Facility Seven, Emily stood beside Dr. Adrian Mercer as he examined the archived photographs.
Three girls.
Three different faces.
All recorded under the name Elizabeth Whitmore.
Adrian looked exhausted.
Emily pointed toward the screen.
"The first girl has a birthmark on the right."
He nodded.
"The second has one on the left."
"Yes."
"And the third doesn't have one at all."
Adrian leaned closer.
Emily continued.
"They aren't the same person."
"No."
She stared at him.
"Then why did the doctors pretend they were?"
Adrian hesitated.
"Because the researchers were studying identity continuity."
Emily frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"They wanted to know whether a person's identity could be reconstructed through memory conditioning, medical records, and controlled relationships."
Emily felt a chill.
"So they made different girls believe they were Elizabeth?"
Adrian looked down.
"Yes."
She stared at him.
"That's horrible."
"I know."
"Did the girls know?"
"Not at first."
Emily looked toward the photographs.
"Then what happened?"
Adrian opened another file.
A report appeared.
SUBJECT E-01: ORIGINAL.
SUBJECT E-02: REPLACEMENT.
SUBJECT E-03: SECONDARY REPLACEMENT.
Emily's stomach tightened.
"Which one is Sophia?"
Adrian scrolled down.
A photograph appeared.
A little girl with dark curls.
She looked approximately five.
Emily leaned closer.
"That's her."
Adrian nodded.
"Subject E-02."
Emily felt sick.
"So Sophia isn't Victoria's daughter?"
Adrian hesitated.
"We don't know that from this record alone."
Emily stared at him.
"But she was a replacement."
"Yes."
"Replacement for what?"
Adrian closed his eyes.
"For the original Elizabeth."
Emily looked toward the screen.
"And where is the original?"
He opened another file.
A transfer record.
DESTINATION: WHITMORE HOUSE.
STATUS: ACTIVE.
Emily's eyes widened.
"She's alive."
Adrian nodded.
"According to the last available record."
Emily leaned closer.
"Then why does Charles think she died?"
Adrian looked away.
"Because Edward told him she did."
At 10:06 a.m., Victoria received a call from an unknown number.
She answered immediately.
"Hello?"
A young woman's voice spoke.
"Mrs. Vance?"
Victoria froze.
"Sophia?"
Silence.
Then:
"Yes."
Victoria gripped the phone.
"Where are you?"
"Whitmore House."
Her heart pounded.
"Are you safe?"
Sophia hesitated.
"I don't know."
Victoria closed her eyes.
"Listen to me. The police are investigating. Detective Brooks is here with me."
"I know."
Victoria frowned.
"How?"
Sophia's voice trembled.
"Because Edward told me."
Victoria felt a chill.
"Edward is there?"
"Yes."
Victoria swallowed.
"Is he really alive?"
Sophia hesitated.
"Yes."
Tears filled Victoria's eyes.
For a moment, she could not speak.
Then she whispered:
"Why did he let me believe he was dead?"
Sophia's voice softened.
"I think he's afraid of what you'll remember."
Victoria closed her eyes.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know everything."
A pause.
Then Sophia asked:
"Mrs. Vance, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
Sophia's voice trembled.
"Did you ever have a daughter?"
Victoria felt her heart break.
"Yes."
A long silence followed.
Sophia began crying.
"Did you want her?"
Victoria covered her mouth.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Sophia's breathing became uneven.
"Please tell me the truth."
Victoria's tears fell freely.
"I wanted every child I ever carried."
Sophia sobbed.
Victoria continued.
"I didn't know where she was. I didn't even remember she existed until today."
Sophia said nothing.
"But if you're my daughter, I want to know you."
The silence that followed was almost unbearable.
Then Sophia whispered:
"What if I'm not?"
Victoria closed her eyes.
"Then you still deserve to know who you are."
Sophia began crying harder.
For years, she had believed that finding her biological mother would solve everything.
Now she realized the truth might be more complicated.
"Mrs. Vance?"
"Yes?"
"There's something you need to know."
Victoria's pulse quickened.
"What?"
Sophia looked toward Edward.
He was watching her.
She lowered her voice.
"The woman who came here with me says she's Elizabeth."
Victoria stopped breathing.
"My daughter?"
"Maybe."
"What do you mean?"
Sophia swallowed.
"Edward says there were three girls."
Victoria gripped the phone.
"Three?"
"All given the same name."
Victoria felt dizzy.
"Why?"
Sophia looked toward the woman in green.
"Because someone was trying to replace the original Elizabeth."
Victoria's breathing became shallow.
"Replace her?"
"Yes."
A pause.
Then Sophia whispered:
"And Edward says one of us is the original."
Victoria stared at the wall.
"Which one?"
Sophia's voice broke.
"He won't tell us."
At the Vance estate, Catherine Bell watched Charles receive a message.
His expression changed.
"What is it?" she asked.
He looked up.
"Sophia is at Whitmore House."
Catherine frowned.
"Your assistant?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Charles hesitated.
"Because she found out."
"Found out what?"
He looked away.
Catherine stepped closer.
"Charles."
He exhaled.
"Edward used three girls under the same identity."
Catherine stared at him.
"Elizabeth."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Charles looked toward his computer.
"To study whether memory and identity could be shaped independently of biological origin."
Catherine felt sick.
"And Sophia?"
"She was one of them."
"Which one?"
Charles hesitated.
"Subject E-02."
Catherine stared at him.
"Then she isn't Victoria's daughter?"
Charles shook his head.
"Not necessarily. The labels were assigned for the research, not to establish parentage."
Catherine looked toward the screen.
"Do you know which girl is the original?"
Charles said nothing.
Catherine felt a chill.
"You do."
He looked away.
"Charles."
His voice became barely audible.
"Edward told me the original Elizabeth died."
"But?"
Charles closed his eyes.
"I found evidence she survived."
Catherine stepped closer.
"Where is she?"
He hesitated.
Then said:
"She's been living under another name."
Catherine stared at him.
"What name?"
Charles looked toward the window.
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then whispered:
"Emily."
Catherine stopped breathing.
"The girl from the basement?"
Charles nodded.
Catherine stared at him in horror.
"Emily is Victoria's daughter?"
"Possibly. I found records linking her to the original infant, but Edward concealed the final identification results."
Catherine felt the room tilt.
Emily.
The teenage girl who had been imprisoned beneath the mansion.
The girl who had helped Daniel escape.
The girl who had stolen the original records.
Catherine pressed a hand against her mouth.
"Does she know?"
Charles shook his head.
"No."
"Does Victoria?"
"No."
Catherine stared at him.
"Then tell her."
Charles's expression hardened.
"You don't understand."
"Stop saying that!"
Her sudden shout echoed through the office.
Catherine stepped closer.
"You have spent years hiding behind those words. Every time someone asks you why children are suffering, you say they don't understand."
Charles said nothing.
She continued.
"Maybe we understand perfectly."
His jaw tightened.
Catherine looked directly into his eyes.
"You chose your research over your family."
Charles's expression changed.
For a moment, she thought he might finally admit it.
Instead, he whispered:
"If Emily is the original Elizabeth, then Edward has been lying to me for fifteen years."
Catherine stared at him.
"And what if she is?"
Charles looked toward the door.
"Then the final protocol is already failing."
At Whitmore House, Sophia stood beside the woman in green as Edward opened a locked cabinet.
Inside were three sealed folders.
He placed them on the desk.
Each bore the same name.
ELIZABETH WHITMORE.
Sophia stared at them.
"Which one is mine?"
Edward hesitated.
Then opened the first.
A photograph of a newborn girl.
The crescent-shaped birthmark beneath her right ear was clearly visible.
Sophia leaned closer.
"That's the original?"
Edward nodded.
"Yes."
He opened the second folder.
A different child.
Similar dark hair.
Similar eyes.
But no birthmark.
Sophia felt her stomach tighten.
"That's me."
Edward nodded.
"Subject E-02."
She stepped backward.
For years, she had believed she was Elizabeth.
Then Sophia.
Now she was learning that both names had been assigned to her by people who saw her as an experiment.
"Who were my parents?" she whispered.
Edward looked away.
"I don't know."
Sophia began crying.
"You took me from someone."
He said nothing.
"You gave me a name that wasn't mine."
Edward closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Sophia laughed bitterly.
"Sorry?"
Her voice rose.
"You stole my childhood!"
Edward flinched.
Sophia continued.
"You made me believe I had no family. You let Charles control my life. You watched me work for him!"
Edward looked down.
"I know."
Sophia stepped closer.
"Then tell me who I am."
He could not answer.
The woman in green reached for the third folder.
Edward suddenly grabbed her wrist.
"Don't."
She stared at him.
"Why?"
"That file is restricted."
Sophia laughed.
"Restricted?"
She stepped forward.
"You're still trying to control us."
Edward's hands trembled.
The woman pulled free.
Then she opened the folder.
A photograph appeared.
A young girl with dark hair.
She looked approximately thirteen.
Sophia leaned closer.
The girl's face was familiar.
Very familiar.
But not because she resembled Victoria.
Sophia had seen her before.
In photographs.
On security recordings.
In Charles's private files.
The girl was Emily.
The teenager from the underground facility.
The woman in green stared at the image.
Her expression changed.
"That's not me."
Edward said nothing.
Sophia looked toward him.
"Who is she?"
Edward closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then he whispered:
"The original."
Sophia felt her heart stop.
"The original Elizabeth?"
Edward nodded.
The woman in green stepped backward.
"Then who am I?"
Edward looked at her.
His face had turned pale.
He opened his mouth.
But before he could answer, a loud crash echoed through the mansion.
A security alarm began sounding.
Sophia turned toward the doorway.
Footsteps thundered in the corridor.
A guard appeared.
"Professor! We have a breach!"
Edward gripped his wheelchair.
"Who?"
The guard's face was white.
"Someone entered through the eastern service entrance."
Sophia felt a chill.
"Who?"
The guard hesitated.
Then said:
"A teenage girl."
Edward stopped breathing.
The guard continued.
"She says her name is Emily."
Sophia stared at him.
Emily?
The girl who was supposed to be locked inside Facility Seven?
Edward's hands began trembling.
"Where is she?"
The guard looked