Chapter 3: The Birthmark Behind My Ear
The woman holding the photograph looked about sixty.
Her silver hair was pulled into a neat bun, and she wore a navy-blue coat with pearl buttons.
She was trembling.
I looked behind me.
"Are you talking to me?""
She stepped closer.
"What's your name, sweetheart?""
Marco immediately moved between us.
"Ma'am, you need to step back.""
But the woman ignored him.
"Wren?""
I froze.
Nobody outside Adrian's circle had called me that yet.
"How do you know my name?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Because I knew a little girl who looked exactly like you.""
I swallowed.
"Who?""
She raised the photograph.
It showed a little girl standing in front of a white mansion.
She had dark hair, bright eyes, and a small gold necklace around her neck.
My heart began pounding.
The girl looked familiar.
Not because I recognized her face.
Because I recognized the necklace.
A tiny golden bird hung from its chain.
I reached for my throat.
I had no necklace.
But I remembered holding one in my hand while flames climbed the walls.
"Where did you get that?""
The woman's lips trembled.
"Her name was Isabella Whitmore.""
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
Marco took out his phone.
"Mr. Kane, we have a situation.""
The woman suddenly grabbed my hand.
"Please. You have to come with me.""
I pulled away.
"I don't know you.""
She lowered her voice.
"Your mother used to sing to you. A little lullaby about a silver moon.""
My breathing stopped.
I remembered that.
Not the words.
Just the melody.
A woman's voice.
Soft and warm.
A hand brushing my forehead.
"Sleep, my little moon...""
I stumbled backward.
"Who are you?""
"My name is Eleanor. I worked for the Whitmore family.""
Marco ended his call.
"Mr. Kane is coming down.""
Eleanor's eyes widened.
"No. You mustn't let him see you like this.""
"Why?""
She looked toward the elevators.
"Because if Vincent discovers you're alive, he'll finish what he started.""
Before she could explain, Adrian stepped out of the elevator.
His expression was cold.
"Get away from her.""
Eleanor turned.
"Adrian.""
He stopped.
For several seconds, he simply stared at her.
Then his jaw tightened.
"Eleanor Price.""
She nodded.
"I've been looking for her for years.""
Adrian stepped forward.
"Why didn't you come to me?""
Eleanor's face crumpled.
"Because I was afraid.""
"Of whom?""
She glanced at me.
"Your uncle.""
Adrian looked at Marco.
"Take us upstairs.""
Within minutes, we were back in the penthouse.
Adrian ordered everyone out except Marco, Eleanor, and me.
He placed the photograph on the table.
"Explain.""
Eleanor sat down slowly.
"Ten years ago, the Whitmore mansion caught fire. The official report claimed that Isabella died inside.""
Adrian nodded.
"I know the report.""
"Then you know it was a lie.""
His eyes sharpened.
"Where is the proof?""
Eleanor opened her handbag and removed a small leather case.
Inside was a gold necklace.
A tiny bird-shaped pendant hung from it.
I gasped.
My fingers flew to my throat.
"I remember that.""
Eleanor looked at me.
"Your mother gave it to you on your eighth birthday.""
I touched the pendant carefully.
"Where did you get it?""
"I found it in the garden after the fire. I kept it because I knew the official story wasn't true.""
Adrian picked it up.
His fingers shook.
"Isabella wore this every day.""
He looked at me.
"Do you remember anything about that night?""
I closed my eyes.
Smoke.
Screaming.
A staircase.
A man carrying me through a hallway.
Then a sharp voice.
"Take the necklace off her!""
My eyes opened.
"I remember a man.""
Adrian leaned closer.
"What man?""
"I couldn't see his face. He was wearing a dark ring. A big one, with something carved into it.""
Eleanor covered her mouth.
"The Kane family crest.""
Adrian went completely still.
Marco exchanged a glance with him.
"Sir...""
Adrian raised a hand.
"Not now.""
Eleanor continued.
"After the fire, Vincent told everyone that Isabella had been cremated. He said there was nothing left to recover.""
"Why?"" I whispered.
"Because the Whitmore estate was worth hundreds of millions. Isabella was the only surviving child in the Whitmore bloodline.""
Adrian frowned.
"Then why was the estate transferred to Vincent?""
Eleanor looked at him.
"Because he presented a document claiming Isabella's parents had appointed him guardian before their deaths.""
Adrian's expression darkened.
"My uncle never told me that.""
"Your uncle told you whatever he wanted you to believe.""
I looked at the photograph again.
The little girl had a beautiful smile.
"Was I really Isabella?""
Eleanor reached across the table.
"Yes, sweetheart.""
I pulled my hand away.
"I don't remember being her.""
"Trauma can take memories away.""
Adrian walked toward the window.
For several moments, he said nothing.
Then he turned around.
"Marco, get me every document connected to the Whitmore estate.""
"Already working on it.""
"And find out where Vincent was the night of the fire.""
Marco nodded and left.
Adrian looked at Eleanor.
"Why come forward now?""
She lowered her eyes.
"Because Vincent knows she's alive.""
The room went silent.
"What?"" Adrian demanded.
Eleanor pulled a folded newspaper clipping from her handbag.
It showed a photograph of Adrian leaving his building that morning.
Beside him, barely visible, was me.
Someone had circled my face in red ink.
Underneath, someone had written:
THE GIRL FROM THE FIRE.
Adrian grabbed the clipping.
"Who sent this?""
"It arrived at my house yesterday.""
"Why didn't you contact me immediately?""
Eleanor's voice broke.
"Because there was another message.""
She reached into her coat and placed a small envelope on the table.
Adrian opened it.
Inside was a photograph of a woman standing beside a little girl.
I recognized the woman's face from my fragmented memories.
My mother.
On the back, written in black ink, were six words:
SHE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOTHER.
Adrian stared at the photograph.
"My mother died twenty years ago.""
Eleanor shook her head.
"No, Adrian. She disappeared twenty years ago.""
He stepped toward her.
"What are you saying?""
Eleanor looked at me.
Then at Adrian.
"Your mother was alive when Isabella was taken from the mansion.""
Adrian's voice dropped.
"Who took my sister?""
Eleanor's lips trembled.
"Your mother ordered Vincent to do it.""
I felt sick.
Adrian grabbed the edge of the table.
"You're lying.""
"I wish I were.""
"Why would my mother hurt her own daughter?""
Eleanor slowly shook her head.
"Because Isabella wasn't the only child she wanted to protect.""
Adrian stared at her.
"What does that mean?""
Eleanor reached into her handbag again.
This time, she removed a sealed medical envelope.
On the front was a hospital name and a date from twenty years earlier.
She placed it between us.
"Adrian, before you decide whether Wren is your sister, you need to read this.""
He opened the envelope.
His eyes moved across the first page.
Then the second.
Suddenly, his face lost all color.
He looked at me.
Then at Eleanor.
And whispered:
"There's something wrong with my birth certificate.""
Eleanor nodded.
"Because Vincent didn't just steal Isabella's inheritance.""
She paused.
"He stole your entire identity, too.""
Adrian slowly lowered the document.
Outside, a black sedan pulled up to the building.
A man stepped out.
He looked toward the penthouse windows and raised his phone.
A second later, Adrian's phone began ringing.
The caller ID read:
*VINCENT KANE.*
Adrian answered.
His uncle's familiar, cheerful voice filled the room.
"Good morning, nephew.""
Adrian said nothing.
Vincent chuckled.
"I hear you've found a very interesting young woman.""
Adrian tightened his grip on the phone.
"How do you know about Wren?""
"Because, Adrian, I've spent ten years making sure she stayed missing.""
Then Vincent said something that made Eleanor scream.
"Now, if you want to know why your mother ordered Isabella's disappearance, ask the girl what she remembers about the night her father was murdered.""
The call ended.
And for the first time in ten years, I remembered a man's face.
The man who had carried me out of the burning mansion.
May you like
The man whose blood had covered my little hands.
My father.
