Chapter 8: My Sister’s Confession

“Your husband knows who separated us, Elena, and if you continue trusting him, you will never discover what really happened to our family.”

Victoria’s words followed me into the hospital room, where she lay with a bandage around her forehead, watching me with the same green eyes I had seen in the photograph of my mother.

I stood beside the door, unable to decide whether I wanted to slap her or demand that she explain everything.

Adrian remained behind me, but Victoria’s attention was fixed entirely on him.

“Leave us alone,” she said.

“That’s not happening,” Adrian replied.

“Then she won’t hear the truth.”

I turned toward him. “Please, Adrian. I need to speak with her.”

He studied my face before reluctantly stepping into the corridor, although he left the door slightly open.

Victoria waited until he was out of sight before reaching beneath her pillow and producing a folded piece of paper.

“Your father gave this to someone before he died,” she whispered. “I found it among the documents he left behind.”

I unfolded it carefully.

It was a handwritten letter addressed to my mother.

If they discover that the girls are twins, they will use them against each other. Keep Elena away from the Blackwells. Whatever happens, never let her marry into that family.

My hands began to shake.

“Why would my father write this?”

Victoria looked down at her bandaged fingers.

“Because the Blackwell family was responsible for separating us. Your father discovered that their company was involved in something terrible, and he threatened to expose them. They used our separation to silence him.”

I struggled to breathe.

“Who arranged it?”

“My grandfather was involved,” she answered. “But he wasn’t working alone.”

“Who helped him?”

Victoria hesitated.

Then she looked toward the door.

“Adrian’s mother.”

I stared at her.

Margaret Blackwell had always treated me with polite distance, but I had never imagined she could be involved in destroying my family.

“Are you certain?”

Victoria nodded. “I saw her signature on the original agreement. She knew we were twins, Elena. She knew everything.”

Before I could ask another question, the door opened.

Adrian walked inside, his expression dark.

“What are you telling her, Victoria?”

Victoria immediately looked away.

I stepped between them. “Is it true? Did your mother help separate us?”

Adrian’s silence lasted only a moment, but it was enough.

“You knew,” I whispered.

“I suspected something, but I didn’t have proof.”

“You knew enough to investigate my family for three years, yet you allowed me to believe I was simply an inconvenient wife.”

“Elena, listen to me.”

“No. You listen to me. I am tired of discovering my own life through strangers and hidden documents.”

My phone vibrated.

A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.

Your mother is awake. She wants to see you. Come to the hospital’s east entrance alone.

I immediately called the number, but it was unavailable.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asked.

“Nothing.”

I slipped my phone into my handbag.

For once, I wanted to make a decision without asking his permission or allowing him to control what happened next.

I told Victoria I would return, then walked out of the room.

Adrian followed me.

“Elena, where are you going?”

“To see my mother.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I said I want to go alone.”

He caught my wrist gently. “Someone is manipulating you. I won’t let you walk into a trap.”

I looked down at his hand before meeting his eyes.

“You should have thought about protecting me before you made me part of your family’s investigation.”

His grip loosened.

I walked away without looking back.

When I reached the east entrance, a nurse approached me and asked whether I was Mrs. Hayes.

“Yes. Is my mother here?”

She nodded and handed me a small envelope.

“Your mother asked me to give you this if you came alone.”

I opened it.

Inside was a photograph of my father standing beside a younger Margaret Blackwell. On the back, he had written a date and a sentence that made my blood run cold.

The day I discovered who really fathered Victoria’s child.

I stared at the photograph, unable to understand what I was reading.

Victoria had told me that Adrian was the child’s father.

But my father’s handwriting suggested something entirely different.

Then the nurse spoke again.

“There’s one more thing, Mrs. Hayes. Your mother isn’t in this hospital.”

I turned sharply.

“Where is she?”

The nurse looked frightened.

“She checked herself out an hour ago. But before leaving, she asked me to tell you something.”

I held my breath.

“What?”

The nurse lowered her voice.

“She said you must never let Adrian find out that the baby you’re carrying is a Blackwell heir.”

My hand moved instinctively to my stomach.

I had always believed Adrian was the father of my child.

So why would my mother warn me to keep that truth from him?