Chapter 10 - the dead Blackwood)
Arthur Blackwood’s grave was opened under federal warrant.
The coffin contained a body.
Dental records initially matched.
DNA did not.
Vanessa stood beside Claire outside the cemetery when Hayes delivered the news.
“The man buried as Arthur Blackwood is not biologically related to Vanessa.”
Vanessa laughed once, almost hysterically.
“That proves nothing anymore. Apparently nobody is related to anybody in my family.”
Hayes continued.
“The DNA matches a man named Samuel Greer.”
“Who?”
“Former Blackwood Capital security director.”
Claire stared.
“So Arthur staged his death.”
“Possibly.”
“And the man who visited Sophie…”
“Could have been Arthur.”
Vanessa whispered, “Why would my father fake his death?”
Claire looked at her.
“Maybe because somebody tried to kill him too.”
They returned to the law firm apartment.
Sophie sat at the kitchen table drawing.
Claire had not told her about Emily.
Not yet.
How do you tell an eight-year-old that somewhere in the world she might have a twin sister nobody mentioned?
Sophie held up her drawing.
It showed two girls.
Claire froze.
“Who are they?”
“Me.”
“And?”
Sophie shrugged.
“The girl from my dream.”
Claire sat slowly.
“What dream?”
“The hospital dream.”
“What hospital?”
“The one with the yellow walls.”
Claire’s pulse quickened.
“Sophie, when did you have this dream?”
“All the time when I was little.”
Claire remembered.
Between ages three and five, Sophie sometimes woke crying about a yellow room.
Claire assumed it was a nightmare.
“What happens in the dream?”
Sophie pointed toward the second girl.
“She says we have to find Daddy.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“Did you ever see this girl somewhere besides your dreams?”
Sophie thought.
Then nodded.
“At school once.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“When?”
“Last year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought it was funny.”
“What happened?”
“She was in a car.”
“What car?”
“A black one.”
Claire grabbed her phone and called Hayes.
Within hours, detectives obtained school surveillance footage from the previous year.
A black sedan had parked across from Sophie’s elementary school on three separate days.
The plates were stolen.
On the third day, a girl stepped out.
Brown hair.
Approximately Sophie’s age.
Claire stared at the image.
The resolution was poor.
But the resemblance was unmistakable.
Vanessa whispered, “Oh my God.”
The unknown girl looked almost exactly like Sophie.
Hayes froze the frame.
A man stood beside her.
Tall.
Gray-brown hair.
Claire pointed.
“That’s him.”
The man from the apartment.
Arthur Blackwood.
Then the camera showed something else.
Arthur knelt beside the girl.
The child handed him an envelope.
Arthur looked across the street toward Sophie.
But he never approached.
He simply took the girl back into the car.
Claire touched the screen.
“Emily.”
Hayes said carefully, “Possibly.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
She knew.
A mother should not have been able to know from a blurred frame.
But she did.
That was her daughter.
Alive.
A year ago.
Watching her sister from across the street.
Sophie entered the room before Claire could close the laptop.
She saw the image.
Her face changed.
“That’s her.”
Claire turned.
“Who?”
“The girl.”
Sophie approached.
“She came into the bathroom.”
Everyone froze.
Claire stared.
“What bathroom?”
“At school.”
“When?”
“That day.”
“You spoke to her?”
Sophie nodded.
“What did she say?”
Sophie’s expression became uncertain.
“She asked if Daddy ever gave me a red key.”
Claire looked at Hayes.
“What did you say?”
“I said Daddy was dead.”
“And then?”
“She cried.”
Claire pulled Sophie close.
“Anything else?”
Sophie nodded against her shoulder.
“She told me not to trust Uncle Preston.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Sophie continued.
“And she said when I was ready, I should look behind Daddy’s picture.”
Claire slowly released her.
“What picture?”
“The one Grandma gave us.”
Claire’s mother had given Sophie one framed photograph after Daniel died.
Daniel holding newborn Sophie outside the hospital.
It had hung in Sophie’s bedroom for four years.
They drove to Claire’s house under police escort.
Claire removed the photograph from the wall.
The backing looked normal.
She tore it away.
A red key fell onto the carpet.
Along with a photograph of two newborn girls.
On the back, Daniel had written:
May you like
Sophie and Emily.
If they ever meet, the truth has already begun.
