Chapter 5 - THE SISTER WHO NEVER DIED

Khloe’s mother, Rebecca Hale, had died during childbirth.

That was the story Khloe had known all her life.

She was told Rebecca suffered catastrophic bleeding after delivering her.

There were no photographs from the hospital.

No birth video.

Only one picture of Rebecca holding Khloe, her face pale but smiling.

Now Nathaniel stood beside the bed, claiming there had been another pregnancy.

“Before you,” he said. “Rebecca gave birth to another daughter.”

Khloe stared at him.

“I had a sister?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to her?”

“We were told she died.”

“Told by whom?”

Nathaniel hesitated.

“Everett Thorne.”

Marcus looked toward him.

“Why would my father be involved?”

“Because Rebecca was treated at a Thorne-funded research clinic.”

Khloe’s heartbeat seemed louder than the monitors.

“What was her name?”

“Lillian.”

“And you believed she died?”

“I saw a death certificate.”

“Did you see her body?”

Nathaniel looked away.

“No.”

Khloe laughed once, without humor.

“Of course not.”

Marcus moved toward the door.

“Elaine said the first succession child. If Lillian survived, she could have a claim stronger than our baby’s.”

Nathaniel nodded slowly.

“If she is Daniel and Rebecca’s first child, yes.”

Detective Brooks received a message.

“The woman posing as a nurse is conscious.”

Nathaniel and Brooks left to question her.

Khloe remained with Marcus.

“You knew about Project Cradle.”

“I found the name in my father’s files. Nothing more.”

“Did you know about Lillian?”

“No.”

Khloe studied him.

She no longer trusted her ability to recognize his lies.

Marcus approached the window.

“I understand why you hate me.”

“I don’t know what I feel.”

“You should hate me.”

“That would be easier.”

He looked back.

“I loved you before I understood how deeply our families had manipulated us.”

Khloe’s eyes filled, but she refused to cry.

“Love without truth becomes another kind of control.”

Marcus absorbed the words silently.

Downstairs, Mara Voss lay handcuffed to a hospital bed.

Detective Brooks placed Isabella’s photograph in front of her.

“Did she hire you?”

Mara’s face remained blank.

Brooks showed her Adrian’s image.

“Did he?”

Nothing.

Nathaniel stepped forward.

“You injected nothing into Khloe. The syringe broke. That means your employers failed.”

Mara’s eyes moved toward him.

Nathaniel continued.

“You are now the only disposable person left.”

Mara smiled faintly.

“You think I was sent by the Rossis.”

“Were you?”

“No.”

“Who sent you?”

Mara looked toward the mirrored observation window.

“The first daughter.”

Nathaniel froze.

“Lillian?”

“She doesn’t use that name.”

“Where is she?”

Mara closed her eyes.

“Closer than you think.”

An alarm sounded outside.

Brooks turned.

Smoke poured from a service corridor.

The hospital fire system activated.

Sprinklers began spraying water.

Security officers rushed toward the stairwell.

Nathaniel immediately understood.

“The fire is a diversion.”

He ran for the elevator, but it had shut down.

Brooks followed him into the stairs.

On the secure floor above, Marcus heard the alarm.

He locked Khloe’s door.

“Stay here.”

“You’re not leaving me alone.”

“I’m checking the hallway.”

He stepped outside.

The corridor was empty.

Emergency lights flashed red.

At the far end, a woman in hospital scrubs pushed a wheelchair toward him.

Her head was lowered.

Marcus raised his voice.

“Stop.”

She kept coming.

“Stop now.”

The woman released the wheelchair.

It rolled forward on its own.

Marcus stepped aside.

A silver canister was strapped beneath the seat.

He recognized the digital timer.

Thirty seconds.

He rushed back into Khloe’s room.

“We have to move.”

Khloe tried to stand.

Pain shot through her side.

Marcus lifted her into his arms.

He carried her through a connecting door into an adjacent surgical preparation room.

Twenty seconds.

He locked the first door and pushed a metal cabinet against it.

Ten seconds.

He lowered Khloe behind a reinforced counter and covered her with his body.

The explosion shook the floor.

Glass shattered.

The lights vanished.

Smoke entered beneath the door.

Khloe coughed.

Marcus’s back had been struck by flying debris, but he refused to move until the noise ended.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“I’m okay.”

“The baby?”

“He’s moving.”

Marcus closed his eyes briefly.

Footsteps approached through the smoke.

Marcus picked up a broken metal pole.

A figure appeared in the doorway.

Elaine Parker raised both hands.

“It’s me.”

Marcus did not lower the pole.

“You brought this here.”

“I came to stop it.”

“Where is Adrian?”

“Taken.”

“By whom?”

Elaine looked at Khloe.

“Her sister.”

Khloe struggled upright.

“Is Lillian alive?”

Elaine nodded.

“And she believes the trust belongs to her.”

“Where is she?”

Elaine’s expression filled with regret.

“She has been beside you for years.”

Khloe thought of friends, assistants, doctors and foundation staff.

Then she remembered one person who had always appeared during the most important moments of her life.

Someone who knew her medical history.

Someone who had encouraged her relationship with Marcus.

Someone who had arranged tonight’s charity gala.

Khloe stared at Elaine.

“No.”

Elaine nodded.

“Yes.”

The event coordinator standing before them was not the only person using a false identity.

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