Chapter 1 - The Girl in the Hallway

“You came for the wrong twins.”

Nobody moved.

Diego stood beneath the crystal chandelier with the golden button trapped between his fingers.

Across the marble foyer, Valentina stared at the girl who had just stepped out of the dark hallway.

Same dark hair.

Same brown eyes.

Same small nose.

Even the frightened way she pressed her lips together looked familiar.

They were not merely similar.

They looked like reflections separated by nine years of secrets.

Valentina instinctively moved closer to Marisol.

“Mom?”

Marisol did not answer.

Her face had gone completely pale.

Paulina recovered first.

“This is ridiculous.”

Her voice cut through the silence.

“She’s some street child.”

The second girl looked at her.

“No, I’m not.”

Paulina’s jaw tightened.

Diego slowly turned toward her.

“Do you know this girl?”

“Of course not.”

The answer came too quickly.

Diego noticed.

So did Marisol.

The second girl stepped farther into the light.

Her dress was faded.

One sleeve had been crudely repaired.

There was dirt along the edge of her shoes.

But around her neck hung a thin gold chain.

Something small rested beneath her collar.

Diego approached carefully.

“What’s your name?”

The girl hesitated.

“Lucia.”

“Lucia what?”

“I don’t know.”

Paulina laughed nervously.

“You see?”

“This child doesn’t even know her last name.”

Lucia ignored her.

She looked directly at Valentina.

“You’re the other one.”

Valentina frowned.

“The other what?”

Lucia swallowed.

“The other baby.”

Marisol suddenly grabbed the back of a chair.

Diego heard the wood scrape across the marble.

He turned.

“Marisol.”

She shook her head.

“Not here.”

His expression hardened.

“You’ve had nine years.”

“Whatever you have to say, you’re saying it now.”

Paulina stepped forward.

“There is nothing to say.”

Diego raised one hand.

“Not another word.”

Paulina stopped.

Diego had never spoken to her that way before.

Lucia reached beneath her collar.

She pulled out a second golden button.

Diego’s face changed.

It was identical to the one in his hand.

Same weight.

Same engraved crest.

Same tiny scratch running beneath the crown.

Marisol covered her mouth.

Valentina whispered.

“Mom, why does she have one too?”

Lucia answered before Marisol could.

“Because they were sewn onto our blankets.”

Diego looked at her sharply.

“What blankets?”

“The ones we had when we were babies.”

Paulina backed toward the staircase.

Just one step.

Diego saw it.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m calling security.”

“No.”

“She broke into our home.”

Diego looked at Lucia’s thin arms.

“She’s nine.”

“She could have been sent by someone.”

“Then we’ll find out who.”

Lucia suddenly reached into her pocket.

Paulina lunged forward.

“Don’t let her—”

Diego moved between them.

Lucia pulled out a folded photograph.

It was badly burned around the edges.

She handed it to Diego.

The picture showed two newborn babies lying side by side.

Both were wrapped in white blankets.

Both blankets had golden buttons sewn near the corners.

Behind them stood a young nurse.

Someone had written a date across the bottom.

Nine years earlier.

The exact night Marisol had given birth.

Diego stared at the photograph.

His voice became almost inaudible.

“Where did you get this?”

Lucia looked toward the hallway behind her.

“From the woman who raised me.”

“Where is she?”

Lucia’s eyes filled with fear.

“She told me to run.”

“Why?”

“Because somebody found us.”

Paulina’s hand slipped into her purse.

Marisol saw it.

“Diego!”

Paulina pulled out her phone.

She tapped the screen.

Somewhere deep beneath the mansion, an alarm began to scream.

Diego looked toward the floor.

Then he smelled it.

Smoke.

A housekeeper came running from the west corridor.

“Mr. Villaseñor!”

“The archive room is burning!”

Paulina stared at Lucia.

For one fraction of a second, she smiled.

And Diego finally understood.

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