Chapter Three: The Man Who Stole Her Identity
Amara couldn't move.
She stood in the darkness, staring at Daniel as though she were looking at a complete stranger.
"What do you mean you're not the man I think you are?" she whispered.
Daniel closed his eyes.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then he slowly reached into his jacket and brought out an old identification card.
"My real name is Michael."
Amara looked confused.
"Then why did you tell me your name was Daniel?"
"Because Daniel was the name of the man who died fourteen years ago."
Amara stepped backwards.
"What are you talking about?"
Michael took a deep breath.
"Your father had a brother. His name was Daniel. He disappeared shortly before your father's death. I was raised by him, and he made me promise to protect you."
Amara's eyes filled with tears.
"Then why have you been hiding from me?"
"Because I was afraid that if I told you everything, you would never trust me."
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the hallway.
Her mother was getting closer.
Michael grabbed Amara's hand.
"We have to leave. Now!"
They rushed through a back door and entered a small room behind the mansion.
Inside were several boxes, old photographs and documents.
Michael opened one of the boxes.
"This is where everything began," he said.
Amara picked up a photograph.
It showed two little girls wearing identical dresses.
One was her.
The other was a girl with the same eyes, the same smile and the same birthmark on her left cheek.
Her twin sister.
Behind the photograph was a name.
AMANDA.
Amara began to cry.
"Where is my sister? Why did nobody tell me about her?"
Michael looked down.
"Because your family believed she was dead."
"Believed? What do you mean?"
He handed her a medical document.
It was dated fourteen years earlier.
The document revealed that one of the twin babies had been taken to another hospital after a terrible incident. But there was no official death certificate.
Amara stared at it.
Her sister might never have died.
Before she could ask another question, Michael's phone rang.
He looked at the screen and immediately became nervous.
"Who is it?" Amara asked.
He didn't answer.
The phone rang again.
This time, Amara saw the caller's name.
MOTHER.
Michael rejected the call.
Then a message arrived.
"Bring my daughter home, or I will tell her what you did."
Amara slowly turned towards him.
"What did you do?"
Michael remained silent.
"MICHAEL! WHAT DID YOU DO?"
He finally looked into her eyes.
"I was the one who took your sister away fourteen years ago."
Amara felt her knees weaken.
"Why?"
"Because someone paid me to make sure the two of you would never meet."
"Who paid you?"
Michael's eyes filled with tears.
Before he could answer, the door suddenly opened.
A young woman stood there.
She looked exactly like Amara.
Same eyes.
Same nose.
Same smile.
Even the same birthmark.
Amara covered her mouth.
The stranger stepped forward, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Hello, sister."
Amara couldn't speak.
The young woman held out an old photograph.
"Before you hug me, there is something you need to know."
She looked at Michael with anger in her eyes.
"He didn't just separate us. He helped the people who destroyed our family."
Amara turned towards Michael.
He dropped his head.
And then her twin sister whispered the words that shattered Amara's world:
"The man who raised me is your real father. The man you buried fourteen years ago was never our father."
Amara screamed.
Everything she had believed about her life was a lie.
But the biggest question remained unanswered.
If the man buried as her father was not her real father, then whose body had her family buried?
TO BE CONTINUED...