Chapter 21 – Whispers of The Past
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Gwen’s Pov
When I returned home, smiling brightly at my triumph today I noticed how moody the
environment was.
“What’s wrong, Ryder?” I asked worriedly, staring at him and John.
Ryder let out a sigh, “John has found out something about the missing girl – Rachel.”
1 frowned, “Is that why you all look so glum? Please don’t tell me she’s dead.”
Ryder nodded at John as he handed me a file.
“She’s not dead. Up until today someone has been paying the nuns there to keep quiet and destroy her file but I was able to retrieve it,” John said.
I opened the file, eager to know who Cara’s sister but I was shocked when I saw the picture and the results.
“No…” I stuttered, the file dropping to the floor.
Ryder was beside me in an instant as he hugged me, “Please baby, take a deep breath.” “How is this possible?” I asked, shocked, “How can I be their daughter?”
“It’s true, love,” Ryder said quietly.
“I wanna go to that place,” I said.
Ryder didn’t look keen, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to
I shook my head, interrupting him, “I want to go there.”
—
”
The weather was cloudy the morning I stepped out of Ryder’s car.
It was the first time in years I’d seen the orphanage again.
The red–bricked building hadn’t changed much. A cracked swing still hung from the side yard, rusted chains swaying gently in the breeze.
The nameplate on the gate read “St. Marigold’s Children Home.” The paint had peeled, but the words still held the same weight they did back then.
I wasn’t sure how I was feeling, My chest was heavy, my palms damp. There was a dull ache behind my eyes – the kind that came when memories wanted to resurface, but didn’t know how.
“Are you sure about this?” Ryder asked, stepping beside me.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I had to do this. Something inside me bone–deep – told me there were pieces of me buried in this place.
Ryder didn’t say anything else. He just took my hand and opened the gate.
The moment my heels hit the gravel, I heard it. A faint voice.
–
something
A memory of a little girl crying. My own voice, maybe. Or someone else’s. It was blurry.
Chapter 20 Falling Apart
13:13 Wed, 16 Jul • ō G •
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A kind–faced woman greeted us at the door. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ryder. Clearly,
she knew who he was.
“I’m Sister Mel,” she said. “You called about visiting?”
Ryder stepped aside, letting me take the lead.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I used to live here. A long time ago. My name was Gwen Lyndon… but I don’t know if that was my birth name.”
The nun’s face changed. It was quick – just a flicker of something unreadable
- it.
“I see,” she said gently. “Come inside.”
—
—
but I saw
We walked through the narrow halls. The scent was familiar old wood, soap, and something else. Something warmer. Maybe it was the scent of a childhood I had long forgotten.
The nun led us to a small office filled with shelves of old records and yellowed papers.
“I can check our files,” she offered, already walking toward the drawer labeled 1996-1999.
I took a shaky breath and glanced around the room. On the wall was a faded photo of children sitting on the steps of the building. Something about it tugged at my chest.
That was when I saw it – a photo in a broken frame lying on the shelf. I picked it up slowly.
A girl, maybe five or six, stood in the middle of a group. Her face was half turned, but her eyes… Those eyes were mine.
I turned it toward Ryder. “It’s me.”
He took the photo, studying it closely. “You were beautiful,” he said softly. “Still are.”
Sister Mel returned a moment later with a slim file. She handed it to me with both hands.
“This is all we have on you. We’ve arrested the nun that has been receiving payment for years and hiding your real identity.”
I opened it slowly.
The page listed a name I didn’t recognize. “Rachel Alexandria D’Angelos.”
My hands began to shake. “Rachel…”
Born to a wealthy couple. Went missing in a fire. Presumed dead.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “I’m her.”
“You’re her,” Ryder acknowledged, stepping closer.
The nun looked nervous. “There’s something else.”
She reached into the folder and pulled out a photo. It was of two girls – both young, holding hands. One was clearly me. The other…
“Cara,” I whispered. But younger. And meaner, somehow.
“You two came in together,” Sister Mel said, her voice trembling. “But… we were told you
were cousins. Cara’s mother dropped you both off. She claimed you were orphans. But only you were injured when you arrived. Cara was perfectly fine.”
Chantar 21 Whinnors of The Doct
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林会 53%台
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My breath caught. “You mean…”
“I’m not sure but it’s possible Cara’s mother planned for you to disappear by bringing you here.”
I stared at the photo like it might crack open and explain everything. But all it did was mock me with a truth I had tried not to imagine.
“Cara tried to kill me and now her mother,” I said, voice cracking.
I closed the file slowly.
I had thought I was done crying this week. But somehow, a fresh wave of emotion rose inside me. It wasn’t pain this time. It was rage.
–
Cara stole everything from me – my family, my identity, my childhood, even Jack. And now she was walking around with my ring, my name, pretending to be the daughter of a family that was mine.
Not anymore. I stood slowly, wiping my face.
“Make the call, Ryder.”
“Which one?”
“All of them,” I said. “The media. The legal team. The social services. I want it all exposed.” Ryder nodded, eyes glinting with the same fury I felt.
“And tell John to start digging into Cara’s real mother. I want to know what fire they set. Who paid them? And what other lies they buried.”
The nun watched me, half in awe, half in worry. “Do you want me to inform the D’Angelos?” I shook my head. “No. Not yet.”
I turned to her with a tired smile. “They’ve waited twenty years to see their daughter again. They can wait a little longer. I have something I need to finish first.”
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