Chapter 4 - THE MAN I THOUGHT WAS DEAD
For eight years, I had believed Daniel Harper was dead.
Now I was staring at his photograph.
Alive.
Older.
Different.
But unmistakably Daniel.
My first love.
My first heartbreak.
The man I had buried without a grave.
I couldn't breathe.
Olivia sat beside me.
“Penny.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You knew him.”
“He died.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
I closed my eyes.
Eight years earlier, Daniel and I had been engaged.
We were twenty-four.
We had an apartment.
Plans.
A wedding date.
A future.
Then one night, Daniel left to meet someone.
He never came home.
His car was found near a river.
His wallet was inside.
His phone was inside.
His blood was found on the driver's door.
But his body was never recovered.
The police eventually declared him presumed dead.
I spent two years waiting for him.
Then I met Christopher.
Christopher knew about Daniel.
He knew everything.
Or so I thought.
Now I realized he knew because he had been part of it.
Michael placed the photograph on the table.
“Do you recognize the man beside Daniel?”
I nodded.
“The man who was in my apartment.”
Michael looked at the photograph.
“Then we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Because this photograph was taken yesterday.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“The metadata says yesterday afternoon.”
My heart stopped.
Daniel was alive.
And someone had photographed him with the man pretending to be my husband.
That night, I received another call.
“Penelope.”
The voice was male.
Older.
Tired.
“Who is this?”
“Daniel.”
I couldn't speak.
“Penny?”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because they're listening.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
“Christopher?”
A pause.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“You married the wrong man.”
“I know.”
“No, Penny.”
His voice cracked.
“You married the man who killed me.”
I felt sick.
“What?”
“Christopher Bennett is dead.”
“I know.”
“He died eight years ago.”
My body went numb.
“What?”
“Your Christopher died the night I disappeared.”
I couldn't understand.
“Then who have I been living with?”
“Adrian.”
The same name from the earlier caller.
“Who is Adrian?”
“Christopher's identical twin.”
I stared at Olivia.
She covered her mouth.
“Christopher had a twin?”
Daniel continued.
“He was never supposed to exist publicly.”
“Why?”
“Because their father used him.”
“For what?”
“Identity fraud.”
My stomach turned.
Daniel explained that Christopher's father had been involved in a massive financial network.
Adrian was raised outside the family.
He was taught to imitate Christopher.
Voice.
Signature.
Mannerisms.
Medical history.
Everything.
When Christopher discovered the truth, he tried to expose his father.
Daniel helped him.
That's when everything went wrong.
“They killed Christopher,” Daniel said.
“Then why did Adrian marry me?”
“Because he needed access.”
“To what?”
“Your father's estate.”
I froze.
“My father died seven years ago.”
“Yes.”
“He left me nothing.”
Daniel was silent.
I understood.
“He left me something?”
“A trust.”
My heart pounded.
“How much?”
“Twenty-two million dollars.”
I couldn't speak.
My father had owned a small construction company.
I knew about the business.
I knew about the house.
I knew about some savings.
But I had never known about twenty-two million dollars.
Daniel continued.
“Your father discovered the network.”
“What network?”
“The same one Christopher was investigating.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“He was afraid.”
“What happened to him?”
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
“Your father wasn't killed in a heart attack.”
I dropped the phone.
Olivia caught it.
“Penny?”
I grabbed it again.
“What did you say?”
“He was murdered.”
My knees weakened.
“No.”
“I'm sorry.”
“No.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“Why didn't you come back?”
“Because I was being hunted.”
“By who?”
“The man who is sleeping in your house.”
I looked toward the hallway.
Daniel continued.
“Adrian isn't acting alone.”
“Who is helping him?”
“My sister.”
I froze.
“What sister?”
“Yours.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Olivia looked confused.
“Your sister?”
I looked at her.
“My father had another child.”
“What?”
“I didn't know.”
Neither did she.
The next morning, we searched my father's estate documents.
There it was.
A sealed envelope.
It contained a birth certificate.
A woman named Claire Bennett.
My half-sister.
And Claire was married to Matthew Bennett.
Christopher's brother.
I stared at the names.
Everything connected.
Christopher.
Adrian.
Matthew.
Claire.
Daniel.
My father.
The insurance money.
The trust.
The dead man.
It wasn't a random identity theft.
It was a family operation.
And I had been placed in the center of it.
Then my phone rang.
It was Adrian.
The man who had been sleeping beside me.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“You shouldn't be.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel called you.”
I froze.
He laughed softly.
“You always were predictable.”
“What do you want?”
“Your father's trust.”
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You pretended to be my husband.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He was silent.
Then he said:
“Because Christopher loved you.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“He refused to give them the trust.”
“So they killed him?”
“Yes.”
“And you replaced him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect myself.”
I closed my eyes.
“You could have told me.”
“You would have gone to the police.”
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you still alive?”
His voice became quiet.
“Because the people above me want you alive too.”
“Why?”
“Because your father left one final secret.”
“What?”
“The trust isn't the money.”
“Then what is it?”
May you like
Adrian whispered:
“The names.”
