Chapter 12 - The Girl Who Had Two Birth Certificates
“GET THE POLICE INTO MY SISTER'S ROOM! NOW!”
Maria's scream echoed through the chapel.
Detective Bennett was already reaching for her radio.
“Rehabilitation center security, this is Detective Bennett. We have a possible intrusion in Sofia Santos's room. Confirm her status immediately.”
Static crackled.
Alexander moved beside Maria.
“I'm taking you there.”
She nodded, too frightened to speak.
Marcus was already calling the estate's drivers.
Bennett held up a hand.
“Wait. We have officers inside the building. Let them secure the room before anyone rushes in.”
Maria stared at her.
“My sister just screamed!”
“I know. And I'm getting people to her as quickly as possible.”
The radio crackled again.
“Detective, responding officers are entering the room.”
Maria held her breath.
Several seconds passed.
Then a voice returned.
“Patient located. Conscious. No apparent injuries.”
Maria nearly collapsed with relief.
Bennett continued.
“Was there an intruder?”
“Negative. A metal supply cart overturned outside her door. We're checking the hallway.”
Alexander looked at Maria.
“She's safe.”
But Maria wasn't convinced.
“Someone was in her room earlier. That man knew about the wooden box.”
Bennett nodded.
“We'll investigate both incidents. For now, Sofia has an officer at her door.”
Maria wiped her cheeks.
“I need to see her.”
Alexander didn't hesitate.
“Then we go.”
Twenty minutes later, a black SUV pulled into the private entrance of the rehabilitation center.
The storm had weakened to a steady rain.
Maria barely waited for the vehicle to stop before opening the door.
Alexander followed her through the brightly lit lobby.
The building smelled of disinfectant and fresh laundry. Nurses moved quietly between corridors. A television played in an empty waiting area, its cheerful morning advertisements seeming grotesquely out of place.
Outside Sofia's room stood two police officers.
One nodded to Bennett.
“No unauthorized person entered after the earlier visitor. The supply cart was knocked over by an orderly. We confirmed it on camera.”
Maria didn't stop to ask questions.
She pushed open the door.
“Sofia!”
Her sister sat upright in bed, clutching a small wooden box.
Her face was pale.
The moment she saw Maria, she began crying.
“I'm sorry.”
Maria rushed to her.
“Don't apologize.”
She wrapped her arms around Sofia carefully, mindful of her injury.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Maria simply held her.
The familiar scent of Sofia's shampoo, the warmth of her hands, the sound of her breathing—all of it reminded Maria what mattered most.
Not the Vance fortune.
Not the hidden trust.
Not the accusations about bloodlines.
Her sister was alive.
And she was safe.
Alexander remained near the doorway, giving them space.
After a while, Sofia looked up.
“Is that Alexander Vance?”
Maria smiled through her tears.
“Yes.”
Sofia blinked.
“The billionaire?”
Alexander stepped forward.
“Just Alexander is fine.”
Despite everything, Sofia managed a small smile.
“I've seen you on television.”
“Hopefully during one of my better interviews.”
Sofia laughed weakly.
Maria squeezed her hand.
Then her expression grew serious.
“Can we talk about the box?”
Sofia nodded.
She placed it on the blanket.
The box was small, made of dark wood, with a faded flower carved into the lid.
Maria remembered it immediately.
Their mother had kept it on a shelf above the kitchen table.
After Isabella's supposed death, Sofia had refused to let anyone touch it.
Inside were photographs, a folded blue ribbon, two birth certificates, and a sealed envelope.
Maria picked up the first certificate.
SOFIA ISABEL SANTOS.
The second was older.
The paper had yellowed, and the hospital stamp was partly faded.
GRACE ISABELLA VANCE.
Maria stared.
Alexander moved closer.
“May I?”
She handed him the documents.
He studied the dates.
Then frowned.
“These aren't records of the same birth.”
Maria looked up.
“What?”
“The Grace certificate is several years older.”
Sofia whispered, “I noticed.”
Bennett stepped forward.
“Both need authentication. The older one may be a copy or an altered document.”
Maria looked at her sister.
“Where did Mom get them?”
Sofia shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Alexander turned the Grace certificate over.
A handwritten notation appeared near the bottom.
TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION PENDING — CHILD PROTECTION ORDER.
His expression changed.
“This wasn't a normal adoption record.”
Bennett examined it.
“No. It appears to refer to a protective placement. We'll need to locate the underlying order.”
Maria looked toward Elena, who had accompanied the group under police supervision.
“You knew about this?”
Elena stared at the document.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“I knew Isabella was trying to find Grace. I didn't know she had obtained a certificate.”
Sofia watched them.
“Who is Grace?”
Maria sat beside her.
For the first time in her life, she didn't know how to answer a simple question from her sister.
“We think Grace was another daughter Mom had before us.”
Sofia stared.
“Another sister?”
Maria nodded.
“Possibly.”
Sofia looked at the birth certificate.
“Then why did that woman call me Grace?”
Maria took her hand.
“That's what we're trying to understand.”
Bennett carefully examined the photograph Sofia had received years earlier.
It was another print of the girl standing outside the white mansion.
Unlike the chapel copy, its back contained only a date and a small handwritten letter.
G.
No other name.
No alteration.
Bennett placed both photographs side by side.
“The chapel photograph was modified. This one may be closer to the original.”
Alexander nodded.
“So someone wanted us to connect Grace to Sofia.”
“Or wanted us to question that connection,” Bennett replied.
Maria looked toward the sealed envelope.
“Sofia, may I open this?”
Her sister nodded.
“It has my name on it.”
Maria carefully broke the brittle seal.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
The first line made her eyes fill with tears.
My sweet Sofia, if you are reading this, it means someone has finally started asking about Grace.
Maria paused.
Sofia gripped her hand.
“Keep reading.”
Maria swallowed.
I need you to know that you were wanted. You were loved from the moment I held you. Nothing you discover about the past can change that.
Sofia began crying.
Maria continued.
Grace was a child I lost before you were born. I spent years searching for her. I kept her photograph because I was afraid that one day everyone else would forget she existed.
Alexander lowered his head.
The letter continued.
I gave you the name Sofia because it meant wisdom to me. I hoped you would grow up free from the fear that followed Grace. If anyone ever calls you by her name, do not assume they know who you are. They may be trying to use you to find her.
Maria stopped.
A cold silence filled the room.
Sofia whispered, “So I'm not Grace?”
Maria looked at her.
“According to Mom's letter, no.”
Bennett nodded.
“That fits the different birth dates. But we should still verify the records.”
Maria kept reading.
There is one person who can tell you what happened to Grace after she disappeared.
The next sentence was written more heavily, as though Isabella's hand had been shaking.
His name is Thomas Vance.
Alexander froze.
Maria looked up.
“Your father.”
He nodded slowly.
Sofia pointed toward the bottom of the page.
“There's more.”
Maria read the final paragraph.
If Thomas tells you Grace is dead, ask him why he continued sending money to the same school every September.
Alexander stared.
“What school?”
Maria turned the page.
A name was written beneath the signature.
ST. CATHERINE'S ACADEMY — HUDSON VALLEY.
Alexander's face changed.
Maria noticed immediately.
“You know it?”
He nodded.
“My father was one of its largest donors.”
Bennett looked toward him.
“Did he have any children enrolled there?”
Alexander shook his head.
“Not that I knew.”
Sofia looked frightened.
“Does this mean Grace went to that school?”
“Maybe,” Maria answered.
Alexander reached for his phone.
“I'll have Marcus retrieve the donation records.”
But before he could make the call, a nurse appeared at the doorway.
“Mr. Vance?”
Alexander turned.
“Yes?”
“There's a visitor downstairs asking to see you.”
“Who?”
The nurse hesitated.
“He says he's your father.”
The room fell silent.
Alexander stared.
“What's his name?”
The nurse swallowed.
May you like
“THOMAS VANCE.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
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