Chapter 6: The Secret Hidden in the Hospital Records
The drive to Queens felt endless.
Adrian sat beside me in the back of the SUV, staring at the photograph of my hospital bracelet.
Elena had refused to come.
She said she needed to retrieve something from the mansion.
But before we left, she had grabbed my hands and whispered, "Whatever Margaret tells you, don't let Vincent separate you from your brother.""
I hadn't understood what she meant.
Now I was beginning to.
"Adrian?""
He looked up.
"Yes?""
"Do you think my twin is still alive?""
He stared through the window.
"I don't know.""
"What if she is?""
"Then we'll find her.""
"What if she doesn't want to be found?""
He turned toward me.
"Then we'll respect her decision. But first, we deserve to know what happened.""
The care facility was a modest brick building with a small garden and faded blue curtains.
A nurse met us at the entrance.
"Mr. Kane?""
Adrian nodded.
"I'm looking for Margaret Lewis.""
The nurse glanced nervously at Marco.
"I'm afraid she isn't here anymore.""
"We know. Who took her?""
The nurse lowered her voice.
"A man came this morning. He showed us identification and legal paperwork. He said he was her nephew.""
"Did you see his face?""
"Yes.""
She opened a drawer and pulled out a visitor log.
"His name was Vincent Kane.""
Adrian stared at the signature.
His uncle hadn't even bothered to hide his identity.
"Where did he take her?""
"I don't know. But she left something for Miss Wren.""
The nurse handed me a small envelope.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of a little girl standing in front of a hospital nursery.
Beside her was another girl.
They looked identical.
One wore a blue dress.
The other wore yellow.
On the back, Margaret had written:
You were born together. You were separated before either of you could understand what family meant. Find the second bracelet.
I looked at Adrian.
"Where do we find it?""
The nurse hesitated.
"Margaret mentioned an old storage room beneath the original hospital. She said something had been hidden there.""
"Which hospital?"" Adrian asked.
The nurse gave us an address.
It was an abandoned maternity hospital in Brooklyn.
Marco immediately contacted the security team.
"We're going there.""
Twenty-five minutes later, we stood outside a boarded-up building with broken windows and rusted gates.
The hospital had closed seven years earlier.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and damp plaster.
Our footsteps echoed through the empty corridors.
I walked beside Adrian, holding the photograph.
Something about the place felt familiar.
A green door.
A cracked wall.
A faded mural of yellow stars.
Then I stopped.
"I've been here.""
Adrian turned.
"What?""
"I remember these stars.""
I touched the wall.
Suddenly, a memory rushed back.
Two babies crying.
A woman humming.
A nurse whispering, "You have to choose one.""
I staggered.
Adrian caught my arm.
"Wren!""
I pressed my fingers against my temples.
"I remember someone carrying me through this corridor.""
He looked at Marco.
"Find the storage room.""
Marco disappeared down the hallway.
A few minutes later, he called us.
"Sir, I found something.""
We entered a small basement room.
Old medical equipment stood beneath dusty sheets.
Metal filing cabinets lined the walls.
Marco had found a locked drawer.
Adrian forced it open.
Inside were several folders, a silver bracelet, and a sealed envelope bearing my grandfather's name.
I picked up the bracelet.
It was tiny.
On the front were two engraved letters.
*I.K.*
I turned it over.
There was another inscription.
Isabella — Twin One.
My hands began shaking.
Adrian opened the envelope.
The letter inside was dated eleven years ago.
He read silently for several seconds.
Then his expression hardened.
"What does it say?"" I asked.
He handed it to me.
The handwriting was elegant and unmistakably old-fashioned.
To whoever discovers this document:
My granddaughters were never meant to be separated. I authorized the transfer of the second child because I believed it was the only way to prevent Vincent from controlling both heirs.
One child was placed under the protection of a trusted family.
The other was left with Elena.
If either child is reading this, understand that the separation was never intended to be permanent.
At the bottom was a name.
*Charles Kane.*
Adrian's grandfather.
I read the final paragraph.
Then my blood ran cold.
The second child carries a different name. She has been raised as Vincent's daughter.
I looked up.
Adrian was already staring at me.
"Vincent has a daughter?""
I nodded.
The letter slipped from my fingers.
Marco picked it up.
"Sir, there's something else.""
He held up a second document.
It was an adoption certificate.
The biological mother's name had been left blank.
The adoptive father's name was clearly printed.
*VINCENT KANE.*
And the child's name was:
*VICTORIA KANE.*
I stared at the name.
A memory flashed through my mind.
A little girl standing beside me in a nursery.
She was holding my hand.
A woman leaned over us and whispered:
"One day, you'll meet again. But until then, you must never tell anyone you're sisters.""
I grabbed Adrian's sleeve.
"Victoria.""
He looked at me.
"What?""
"I remember that name.""
He carefully studied my face.
"Are you sure?""
I nodded.
"She was the girl in the yellow dress.""
Adrian took out his phone.
"Marco, find Victoria Kane. I want her location, her history, everything.""
Marco began typing.
Then his phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His expression turned unreadable.
"Sir...""
"What?""
"Victoria Kane isn't just Vincent's daughter.""
Adrian stepped forward.
"Then who is she?""
Marco turned the phone around.
A photograph appeared.
A beautiful young woman with long dark hair stood beside Vincent at a charity gala.
She wore a diamond necklace.
And behind her left ear, partially visible beneath her hair, was the same crescent-shaped birthmark.
Marco spoke quietly.
"She's currently engaged to marry the man who tried to have you killed last night.""
Adrian's face darkened.
I stared at the photograph.
Because I recognized the woman.
I'd seen her before.
Not in a hospital.
Not in a childhood memory.
I'd seen her three weeks earlier, standing outside a Manhattan restaurant, handing money to a homeless woman.
The woman had looked directly into my eyes.
And she'd whispered:
"Enjoy your last few days, Isabella.""
May you like
My twin sister knew exactly who I was.
And she had been waiting for me to remember.
