CHAPTER 2: THE TRUTH IN THE APARTMENT
Thomas followed them inside without thinking.
The building was old, smelling of damp walls and forgotten lives. Every step echoed like a warning.
At the end of the hallway, a door stood half-open.
Inside was a small room lit by a single flickering lamp.
And there—sitting on a worn chair—was a woman.
She looked tired. Not just physically, but in a way that came from years of surviving something unbearable. Her eyes lifted when Thomas entered.
And instantly, everything stopped.
Thomas’s breath broke.
“Isabella…” he whispered.
The woman flinched at the name.
“No,” she said quickly. “That’s not my name anymore.”
But Thomas didn’t hear her denial. He was staring at her face, at the subtle details time had changed but not erased.
The same eyes.
The same expression he thought he had buried five years ago.
Eli and Maya stood quietly beside her.
The woman exhaled shakily.
“My name is Claire,” she said. “And those children… are yours.”
The room went silent.
Thomas’s mind refused to process it.
“That’s not possible,” he said immediately. “My daughter—Sofía—she disappeared. You… you died.”
Claire looked down, her hands trembling.
“I didn’t die,” she said quietly. “I ran.”
Thomas’s voice cracked. “Ran from what?”
Claire finally looked up at him.
“From the people who took her.”
The words hit like a physical удар.
Eli lowered his gaze.
Maya clutched her rabbit tighter.
And Thomas… felt something inside him break open again.
“Start from the beginning,” he said, voice hollow.
May you like
Claire nodded slowly.
And she began.
