Chapter 7 - THE SISTER WHO STOLE HER FACE
“I HAVE A TWIN SISTER? THEN WHY DID EVERYONE LET ME BELIEVE I WAS ALONE?”
Isabelle stared at the photograph until the image blurred.
The woman outside Saint Agnes looked exactly like her.
Not merely similar.
Identical.
The same dark eyes.
The same shape of the mouth.
The same slight tilt of the head.
But the stranger's expression was harder.
Colder.
As though life had taught her never to trust a smile.
Alexandre looked toward the road.
“She's nearby.”
Carter immediately ordered officers to secure the area.
But the woman had vanished.
No one had seen her arrive.
No one had seen her leave.
Only the photograph proved she had been there.
Isabelle felt a strange mixture of fear and longing.
A sister.
Somewhere in the world, she had a sister.
Someone who might understand the loneliness of growing up without their parents.
Someone who might remember the childhood Isabelle had forgotten.
But why had they been separated?
And why had Elena remained hidden?
Back at the police office, Carter reviewed the enrollment records.
The girls had entered Saint Agnes under different surnames.
Isabelle had been registered as Isabel Morgan.
Elena had been registered as Elena Hart.
Their files contained almost identical medical histories.
But one detail stood out.
Elena's file included a note:
Subject displays strong resistance to behavioral conditioning.
Alexandre frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Carter's expression darkened.
“We need to understand what kind of program was being run at that school.”
Isabelle read the note again.
“Behavioral conditioning?”
Beaumont, who had joined them, looked deeply troubled.
“Saint Agnes was supposed to provide temporary shelter for children whose families were under threat.”
Carter looked at him.
“Who authorized the program?”
Beaumont hesitated.
“Henri Vasseur.”
Isabelle closed her eyes.
Of course.
Every road led back to Henri.
But another name appeared repeatedly in the school's records.
Dr. Margaret Hale.
The former headmistress.
Now seventy-eight years old, Hale lived in a retirement community outside Albany.
Carter arranged an interview.
Isabelle insisted on attending.
When they arrived, Dr. Hale was sitting beside a window overlooking a small garden.
She looked frail.
Her hands trembled.
But her eyes sharpened when she saw Isabelle.
“Elena?”
Isabelle stopped.
“No. I'm Isabelle.”
The old woman's face changed.
“Oh, dear God.”
Carter sat opposite her.
“Dr. Hale, we're investigating Saint Agnes Academy.”
Hale looked toward the door.
“I told them this day would come.”
“Who?” Carter asked.
“The people who paid us to keep the children quiet.”
Isabelle stepped closer.
“Why was I there?”
Hale looked at her with sorrow.
“Because your father knew too much.”
“And Elena?”
Hale began crying.
“Your sister was the brave one.”
Isabelle felt tears rise.
“What happened to her?”
Hale wiped her eyes.
“They tried to make both of you forget.”
“Forget what?”
“The night your father was attacked.”
Isabelle's breath caught.
“I was there?”
Hale nodded.
“You and Elena were hiding in his office.”
The room seemed to disappear.
A memory flashed through Isabelle's mind.
A dark hallway.
A man's angry voice.
Her father's hand pushing her toward a closet.
Then a loud crash.
She gripped the back of a chair.
Alexandre moved toward her.
“Isabelle?”
She raised a hand.
“I'm okay.”
But she wasn't.
Something inside her was breaking open.
Hale continued.
“After the attack, Claire begged us to protect you. Henri wanted both girls kept under observation.”
“Why?”
“Because one of you had seen the man who attacked Étienne.”
Isabelle's heart pounded.
“Which one?”
Hale looked down.
“Elena.”
“What did she see?”
“She never told us. No matter what they threatened, she refused.”
Isabelle stared at her.
“What happened to her?”
Hale's voice trembled.
“She escaped.”
“When?”
“Three months after arriving.”
“And me?”
Hale looked devastated.
“You were told your sister had died.”
Isabelle stepped backward.
A terrible memory surfaced.
A small white coffin.
A woman holding her hand.
Someone telling her not to cry.
She had always believed it was a nightmare.
Now she understood.
They had staged another death.
Another funeral.
Another lie.
“Why don't I remember?” she whispered.
Hale shook her head.
“I can't tell you exactly. You were frightened, grieving, and subjected to treatments that should never have been used on children.”
Carter leaned forward.
“What treatments?”
Hale began listing medications and psychological procedures.
Carter stopped her.
“We'll need the original records.”
Hale nodded.
“They're in my safe.”
She gave Carter the combination.
Then she turned toward Isabelle.
“Your sister came back once.”
Isabelle froze.
“When?”
“About ten years ago.”
“What did she want?”
“She wanted to know who ordered your father's death.”
“And did you tell her?”
Hale began crying again.
“I told her what I knew.”
“Who was it?”
Hale looked toward Alexandre.
His expression tightened.
“Please,” Isabelle whispered.
Hale closed her eyes.
“Daniel Mercer carried out the attack.”
Isabelle felt a surge of anger.
“But who ordered it?”
Hale hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“Henri Vasseur.”
Alexandre lowered his head.
The answer was devastating.
But not surprising.
Isabelle looked at him.
He seemed smaller somehow.
Like a man carrying a burden he had never chosen.
She reached for his hand.
He held it tightly.
Hale watched them.
“You must understand something,” she said.
“Henri wasn't the only person involved.”
Carter leaned forward.
“Who else?”
Hale's voice became almost inaudible.
“Someone inside the Moreau family.”
Isabelle stared at her.
“Gabriel?”
Hale shook her head.
“No.”
“Claire?”
Another shake.
Hale looked directly at Isabelle.
“Your sister.”
Isabelle recoiled.
“Elena was a child!”
“Yes,” Hale whispered. “But children grow up.”
She opened a drawer and removed a photograph.
It showed Elena as an adult standing beside Daniel Mercer.
The photograph was dated six months earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
Phase Two: Recovery of the Ledger.
Isabelle felt sick.
Her sister had been working with the man who attacked their father.
But before she could ask another question, Hale's telephone rang.
The old woman looked at the screen.
Her face turned white.
“Don't answer it,” Carter said.
Hale stared at the caller ID.
Then whispered:
“She found me.”
Isabelle leaned closer.
“Who?”
Hale looked toward her.
May you like
“YOUR SISTER. AND SHE SAYS SHE'S COMING TO COLLECT WHAT YOUR FATHER LEFT HER.”
End of Chapter 7.
