Chapter 2 - THE NAME SHE WAS NEVER ALLOWED TO REMEMBER
Hannah stared at Damen.
“No.”
Her voice barely existed.
“No. I don't have a sister.”
Damen didn't move.
“You did.”
“Did?”
“She died eleven years ago.”
Hannah shook her head.
“You have the wrong person.”
“I don't.”
“You must.”
“I checked.”
“Then check again.”
Damen's eyes remained fixed on hers.
“Her name was Emma Brooks.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Emma.
The name struck something inside Hannah.
Not a memory.
A feeling.
A little girl laughing.
Yellow rain boots.
A red ribbon.
A hand holding hers.
Then—
nothing.
Hannah pressed her fingers against her temple.
A sharp pain flashed behind her eyes.
“Stop.”
Damen immediately stepped back.
“What happened?”
“I don't know.”
She closed her eyes.
For half a second she saw a kitchen.
A woman crying.
A man shouting.
A little girl hiding beneath a table.
Then everything disappeared.
Hannah opened her eyes.
“Who told you about Emma?”
“Your father.”
She froze.
“My father died when I was sixteen.”
“I know.”
“My mother died when I was eighteen.”
“I know.”
“Then who told you?”
Damen's expression became unreadable.
“Someone who was there.”
“Where?”
“When Emma died.”
Hannah's hands began to shake.
“Tell me.”
Damen remained silent.
“Tell me!”
“She wasn't your biological sister.”
Hannah stared at him.
“What?”
“Your mother adopted her.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It will.”
He took a folder from inside his coat.
Hannah stared at it.
“What is that?”
“Records.”
He placed it on the table.
Hannah didn't touch it.
“Why do you have my family records?”
“Because your family is connected to mine.”
The words hung in the air.
Hannah finally opened the folder.
Inside was an old photograph.
A woman.
A man.
Two little girls.
One was Hannah.
The other was a child with dark curls and a red ribbon.
Hannah's breath caught.
She knew that face.
She didn't know how.
But she knew it.
“That's Emma.”
Damen nodded.
Hannah turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Emma & Hannah — sisters forever.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I don't remember.”
“You were told she was a neighbor's daughter.”
“Who told me?”
“Your mother.”
“Why?”
“Because she was trying to protect you.”
Hannah looked up.
“From whom?”
Damen hesitated.
“Victor Kane.”
The name meant nothing.
But the fear in Damen's eyes did.
“Who is Victor Kane?”
“A man who once worked for my father.”
Damen's voice dropped.
“He became obsessed with controlling people through information.”
Hannah stared at the photograph.
“What happened to Emma?”
Damen looked toward the window.
“She witnessed something she wasn't supposed to see.”
“What?”
“A meeting.”
“Between whom?”
“My father and Victor Kane.”
Hannah's heart pounded.
“What were they discussing?”
“Money.”
“That can't be all.”
“No.”
Damen looked at her.
“They were discussing a list.”
“What list?”
“A list of names.”
Hannah waited.
Damen continued.
“Judges. Police officers. Politicians. Business owners.”
She stared.
“A blackmail list?”
“Yes.”
“And Emma saw it?”
“She saw where your father hid the evidence.”
Hannah's face went pale.
“Why didn't she tell anyone?”
“She tried.”
“What happened?”
Damen didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Hannah understood.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“So she was killed.”
“Yes.”
“By Victor Kane?”
“We believe so.”
“Believe?”
“We never found enough evidence.”
Hannah looked at the photograph again.
“And what does that have to do with me?”
Damen's voice softened.
“Everything.”
A knock came at the door.
Marco entered.
“Boss.”
Damen turned.
“What?”
“We found something.”
Marco looked at Hannah.
His expression changed.
“She's awake.”
“She is.”
Marco handed Damen a small envelope.
Damen opened it.
His face changed.
“What is it?”
Damen didn't answer.
Hannah stood.
“What is it?”
He handed her the photograph inside.
It showed a man standing outside West Haven Community Clinic.
Hannah recognized him.
Her stomach dropped.
“That man.”
“You know him?”
“He came to the clinic three times.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
“What did he want?”
“He said he was looking for a nurse.”
“Which nurse?”
Hannah stared at the photograph.
Then whispered:
“Me.”
Marco looked at Damen.
Damen's expression hardened.
“There's more.”
He handed Hannah another photograph.
It showed the same man standing beside a black car.
A second figure was visible through the windshield.
Hannah couldn't see the face.
But she recognized the coat.
Gray wool.
She had seen it that morning.
Outside her apartment.
Her hand covered her mouth.
“I thought he was waiting for a bus.”
Damen's voice was quiet.
“He wasn't.”
Hannah looked at him.
“Why me?”
Damen stared at the old photograph of Hannah and Emma.
“Because your sister left something behind.”
“What?”
“We don't know.”
“Then how do you know it exists?”
“Because Victor Kane has been searching for it for eleven years.”
Hannah felt the room grow colder.
“And now he's searching for me.”
Damen nodded.
“Why?”
May you like
Damen's eyes met hers.
“Because he finally realized you may be the person who can lead him to it.”