Chapter 8 - The Sister Nobody Recorded
Elena could hear her own heartbeat.
“Twins?”
Caroline nodded.
“The hospital told me only one survived delivery.”
“But you saw both.”
“For less than a minute.”
Caroline touched the photograph.
“A nurse brought them close together. One was smaller. They took her away almost immediately.”
Elena stared at the labels.
A-17.
B-17.
“Which one was me?”
“I don’t know.”
The room became colder.
Caroline wiped her eyes.
“The baby they returned to me wore A-17.”
“And then she was taken.”
“Yes.”
“So I could be A-17.”
“Yes.”
“Or B-17.”
Caroline nodded.
“But Margaret Vance also had a daughter that night.”
“Yes.”
Elena leaned back.
“That makes three infant girls.”
“At least.”
“At least?”
Caroline’s expression frightened her.
“Years later, I found a nurse who worked at St. Vincent’s. She told me the records from that night listed four female infants under restricted access.”
“Four?”
“One was Margaret’s.”
“Two were yours.”
“Yes.”
“And the fourth?”
“She didn’t know.”
Samuel, who had remained silent near the window, finally spoke.
“Do you remember the nurse’s name?”
“Evelyn Ross.”
“Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
Elena almost laughed.
Every witness was dead.
Or supposed to be.
Samuel asked, “How?”
“House fire.”
Agent Sloan, listening from the doorway, wrote something down.
Caroline continued.
“Evelyn believed the hospital had been used for private transfers before.”
“Northstar?”
“She didn’t know that name.”
Elena looked at the faded photograph again.
“What happened after you buried the empty coffin?”
Caroline’s mouth tightened.
“I nearly killed myself.”
Elena looked up.
Caroline did not dramatize the confession.
“I was twenty-one. Alone. My father refused to speak to me. The baby’s father had disappeared before I gave birth.”
“Who was he?”
Caroline hesitated.
“Daniel Price.”
Samuel dropped his pen.
Elena turned.
Samuel looked stunned.
“Daniel Price?”
Caroline stared at him.
“You knew him?”
Samuel slowly sat down.
“He was my older brother.”
Elena felt the air leave her lungs.
Caroline looked from Samuel to Elena.
“No.”
Samuel’s eyes filled.
“My brother died in 1993.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Caroline stood abruptly.
“No. Daniel called me after the funeral.”
Samuel stared.
“What?”
“Three weeks after I buried the baby. He said he was coming back.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I spoke to him.”
“My brother’s body was identified.”
“By who?”
Samuel’s face changed.
“Our father.”
Caroline laughed without humor.
“Then perhaps he buried an empty coffin too.”
The room went silent.
Northstar had not merely altered births.
It altered deaths.
Identities.
Families.
Possibly entire lives.
Agent Sloan stepped forward.
“I need both of you to understand something. We can no longer treat this as a financial fraud investigation.”
Samuel looked shaken.
“What do you think it is?”
“Organized identity trafficking.”
Caroline sat again.
“They had a phrase.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Who?”
“The people who threatened me after Evelyn Ross contacted me.”
“What phrase?”
Caroline swallowed.
“Continuity families.”
Elena felt sick.
“What does that mean?”
“They believed certain family lines, fortunes, and positions had to remain stable.”
Samuel whispered, “Regardless of who occupied them.”
Caroline nodded.
“If an heir died, another child could replace them. If a child was inconvenient, records could move them elsewhere.”
Elena looked at her.
“Children as interchangeable assets.”
Caroline’s eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
Samuel stood and walked toward the window.
“My brother investigated private trusts before his death.”
Elena looked at him.
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t know this was connected.”
“Could Daniel have discovered Northstar?”
Samuel turned.
“Perhaps.”
Agent Sloan’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
“When?”
She listened.
“Secure the scene. Nobody touches anything.”
Elena stood.
“What happened?”
Sloan lowered the phone.
“Raymond was found.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“A motel seventy miles north.”
Elena grabbed her coat.
Sloan stopped her.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“He had a woman with him.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why not?”
“Because she has identification in your name.”
Elena stared.
Sloan continued.
“Driver’s license. Passport. Social Security number. Everything says Elena Marie Vance.”
Caroline gripped the table.
Samuel whispered, “Someone else grew up with your name.”
Elena remembered Peter’s warning.
May you like
Sloan looked directly at her.
“And she looks almost exactly like you.”
