Chapter 3 - The Woman Behind the Bar
I called Dominic.
I didn't think about it.
I didn't debate.
I didn't even look at the black business card.
His number was already burned into my memory.
He answered after one ring.
“Elina?”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Rafael gave you my number.”
“That doesn't explain—”
“What happened?”
His tone changed so quickly I stopped talking.
I looked at my locked apartment door.
“Someone called me.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“What did they say?”
I repeated the sentence.
Silence.
Then Dominic asked, “Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Stay away from the windows.”
A pulse of fear went through me.
“Dominic—”
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
The line was already dead.
Seven minutes later, someone knocked.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Elina.”
Dominic.
I opened the door.
He stood outside with Rafael and another guard.
No baby.
“Where's Leo?”
“With my sister.”
The answer came too quickly.
He had rushed here.
Dominic walked inside.
He looked around my apartment without judgment, but I suddenly became painfully aware of the peeling paint above the kitchen sink and the laundry folded on the sofa.
“What did the caller say exactly?”
I told him again.
His jaw tightened.
“Did they say your name?”
“No.”
“Male or female?”
“Male.”
“Accent?”
“No. Maybe older.”
“Blocked number?”
“Yes.”
Rafael was already making a call.
Dominic noticed the open box on my bed.
“What is that?”
“My mother's things.”
I held up the letter.
“And this.”
He read the first sentence.
His expression became unreadable.
“May I?”
I handed it over.
The letter was short.
Too short for twenty-eight years of lies.
> My darling Elina,
>
> If you are reading this, then Elena has found you.
>
> And if Elena found you, then I failed to keep the two of you apart.
>
> I need you to understand that I did not separate you because I loved one daughter more than the other.
>
> I separated you because someone gave me a choice.
>
> One child could disappear.
>
> Or both could.
>
> I chose the only option that allowed both of you to live.
>
> Elena was placed with a family I believed could protect her. You stayed with me under my name.
>
> I prayed you would never meet, because if you did, someone might remember why you were separated.
>
> Forgive me.
>
> Mom.
I read it again over Dominic's shoulder.
The words didn't improve.
“You knew nothing?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“No relatives?”
“My mother said she was an only child. My grandparents died before I was born.”
Dominic handed the letter to Rafael.
“Photograph it.”
I snatched it back.
“No.”
Rafael stopped.
“This belongs to me.”
Dominic nodded.
“Then you photograph it.”
I did.
Only then did I let Rafael take a picture.
Dominic walked toward the window.
The rain had slowed.
“Someone threatened your mother when you were newborn.”
“That was almost thirty years ago.”
“And someone called you tonight.”
I folded my arms.
“You think they're connected.”
“Yes.”
“What exactly was Elena investigating?”
“I don't know.”
“You were married to her.”
“That doesn't mean she told me everything.”
“Did you tell her everything?”
He looked at me.
“No.”
“Then perhaps your marriage had problems.”
His face hardened.
I regretted the sentence immediately.
“I'm sorry.”
Dominic looked away.
“We loved each other.”
The words were simple.
Certain.
“That wasn't the problem.”
“What was?”
“She thought keeping information from me protected me.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
The pain in his answer silenced me.
I sat on the edge of the sofa.
“What was she like?”
Dominic glanced toward me.
“My sister.”
It felt strange saying it.
He remained standing for a moment.
Then he sat across from me.
“Elena was stubborn.”
“That sounds familiar.”
He ignored that.
“She hated being told she couldn't do something. She collected terrible old jazz records and insisted they sounded better because they were scratched.”
I smiled despite myself.
“She couldn't cook. At all.”
“Neither can I.”
“She once burned water.”
“That's impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
A memory softened him.
“She was good with people. Better than me.”
“Not difficult.”
This time I definitely saw the beginning of a smile.
“Elena believed people were usually better than the worst thing they'd ever done.”
“And you?”
“I believe people show you who they are when there's something to lose.”
The smile left.
“She was right more often.”
I looked at the photograph of my mother and two newborn girls.
“Did she know she was adopted?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Her parents told her when she was sixteen.”
“Were they good to her?”
“Very.”
“Are they alive?”
“Her father is. Her mother died six years ago.”
“Does he know about me?”
“No.”
I thought about an elderly man somewhere who had raised my twin sister.
A sister I never knew existed.
My stomach twisted.
“What was her maiden name?”
“Romano.”
“Elena Romano.”
“Yes.”
I whispered the name.
It felt stolen from another life.
Rafael returned from the hallway.
“The call was routed through multiple services. Nothing useful yet.”
“Keep trying.”
Dominic turned back to me.
“You can't stay here tonight.”
“I'm not moving into your mansion.”
“I didn't say mansion.”
“You have mansion energy.”
Rafael looked away suspiciously quickly.
Dominic frowned.
“You can stay at a hotel.”
“Paid for by you?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Elina.”
“I don't take expensive favors from dangerous strangers.”
“We are past strangers.”
“We met two hours ago.”
“My son fell asleep in your arms.”
“That doesn't make us family.”
Dominic looked toward the photograph.
“No.”
His voice quieted.
“But Elena might.”
That silenced me.
I packed a small bag.
Not because Dominic ordered me to.
Because the phone call had changed everything.
Before leaving, I checked the box one more time.
Under the nursing certificates was something I hadn't noticed.
A plastic key card.
Old.
Faded.
Embossed with a name.
ST. AGNES WOMEN'S HOSPITAL
On the back, written in my mother's handwriting, were four numbers.
4172.
Dominic stared at it.
“Do you know the hospital?”
I shook my head.
Rafael did.
“It closed nineteen years ago.”
“What is 4172?” I asked.
Dominic took the card.
“A room?”
“Locker?”
“File number?” Rafael suggested.
I put the card into my bag.
“We'll find out tomorrow.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Not alone.”
I was too tired to argue.
The hotel turned out to occupy the top twenty floors of a building I had once avoided entering because coffee in the lobby cost nine dollars.
A suite had already been prepared.
I stared at Dominic.
“This is ridiculous.”
“It has controlled access.”
“It has a piano.”
He looked at the piano.
“Don't use it.”
I laughed.
He seemed surprised.
So was I.
Rafael waited outside.
Dominic was about to leave when his phone rang.
His expression changed when he answered.
“What?”
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“I'm coming.”
“What happened?”
He disconnected.
“Leo woke up.”
“Okay.”
“He's been crying for twenty minutes.”
A strange ache moved through my chest.
“You should go.”
Dominic didn't move.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“My sister found something in Elena's nursery.”
I stood.
“What?”
“An envelope.”
My heart started pounding.
“Addressed to who?”
Dominic stared at me.
“To Elina Valdez.”
I forgot how to breathe.
Elena had known my full name.
And she had written to me before she died.
The sister I had never met had been trying to reach me.
May you like
Tomorrow suddenly felt impossibly far away.
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