She remembered her father saying,
"You will never marry that boy."
Victoria looked at Lucy.
"Was your father's last name Mercer?"
Lucy nodded.
"Mom said his name was Daniel Mercer."
Victoria's hands began to shake.
The pieces were fitting together.
But they were fitting together in a way that made the old story impossible.
Anna had not fallen into the river.
She had survived.
She had married Daniel.
She had a daughter.
And someone had spent nearly thirty years making sure Victoria never knew.
Edward entered the kitchen.
"We need to call the police."
Victoria looked at him.
"Yes."
"And child services."
"Yes."
"But first, we need to determine whether this girl is really related to us."
Victoria stood.
"I already know she is."
Edward frowned.
"You can't know that."
Victoria pointed toward the locket.
"That belonged to Anna."
Edward stared at it.
"Jewelry can be copied."
Victoria looked at him.
"So can lies."
He said nothing.
Victoria turned toward the hallway.
"We're going upstairs."
"Where?"
"The blue room."
Edward's expression changed.
"You can't."
"Why?"
"It's been sealed for years."
"That isn't what I asked."
"Victoria."
She walked past him.
He grabbed her arm.
She looked down at his hand.
He released her immediately.
"Don't touch me again."
Edward stepped back.
Victoria took the brass key.
They climbed the stairs toward the oldest wing of Hale House.
The restored portion of the mansion was beautiful.
The old wing was different.
Narrow corridors.
Dark wood.
Faded portraits.
Rooms that had not been used in decades.
At the end of one corridor was a section of blue wall.
Victoria stopped.
She remembered being eleven.
She remembered Anna beside her.
They had discovered the hollow wall by accident.
They had found a hidden room behind it.
Their father had been furious.
He had locked it.
Anna had stolen the key.
The same key Lucy had just given Victoria.
Victoria inserted it.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Dust filled the air.
Edward stood behind her.
"I told you this was a mistake."
Victoria entered.
There was an old desk.
Shelves.
Boxes.
A broken lamp.
She remembered Anna sitting on the floor, pretending they were detectives.
Victoria walked toward the desk.
One drawer was locked.
She hit it with an old brass candlestick.
Once.
Twice.
The latch broke.
Inside were letters.
Dozens of them.
All tied with blue ribbon.
The first envelope had one word written on it.
Vicky.
Victoria's heart stopped.
She opened it.
The handwriting was Anna's.
The date was August 19, 1998.
Three days after Anna's supposed death.
Victoria read.
Vicky,
If you are reading this, I have failed to get this letter to you.
Dad says I cannot come home.
He says if I try, Daniel will be arrested.
I don't understand why everyone believes him.
I am not dead.
I am alive.
Please don't forget me.
Victoria dropped into the chair.
Her vision blurred.
She opened another.
And another.
There were letters from Anna at thirteen.
Fourteen.
Sixteen.
Twenty.
Twenty-five.
Thirty.
She had written for years.
Some were angry.
Some hopeful.
Some heartbroken.
One contained a photograph.
Anna at seventeen.
Another showed her with Daniel.
Another showed a baby boy.
Samuel.
Victoria read the letter beside it.
Samuel had been born with a severe heart condition.
He had lived for eight months.
Then died.
Victoria pressed the photograph to her chest.
Anna had suffered all of this without her.
Then came Lucy.
Victoria found a photograph of Anna holding a little girl.
On the back:
Lucy, three months old.
The next letter was different.
Someone is still watching.
Someone still doesn't want me near Hale House.
I don't know why.
Dad is dead, but the fear he created is not.
Victoria read the next line twice.
Edward came today.
Her hands froze.
She looked toward the doorway.
Edward was standing there.
"How long?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
"How long have you known Anna was alive?"
"Victoria—"
"How long?"
His eyes filled.
"Since I was twenty-one."
Victoria stared at him.
Twenty-six years.
She had mourned her sister for twenty-eight.
Edward had known for twenty-six.
"You knew?"
"I was told."
"By whom?"
"Your uncle."
"And you believed him?"
"He showed me documents."
"You could have told me."
"He threatened to destroy Hale House."
Victoria laughed bitterly.
"You chose a building over my sister."
"I thought I was protecting you."
"You let me believe she was dead."
Edward lowered his head.
"Yes."
Victoria slapped him.
The sound echoed through the room.
He did not defend himself.
"Where is Anna's final letter?"
Edward looked at her.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Then why are you afraid?"
Before he could answer, they heard a crash downstairs.
Victoria ran.
Margaret was standing in the hall.
Her face was white.
Lucy was gone.
The front door was open.
A pale-blue ribbon lay on the floor.
Beside it was a piece of paper.
Victoria picked it up.
Bring the letters to the old river bridge.
Come alone.
Victoria's hands tightened.
The old river bridge.
The place where Anna had supposedly died.
Victoria looked at Edward.
"Did you do this?"
"No."
"Then who did?"
Edward stared at the note.
"I think I know."
"Who?"
He whispered,
"Walter Briggs."
Victoria remembered the name.
Her father's attorney.
A man who had handled the Hale family's finances for decades.
A man she had not seen in years.
Victoria grabbed her coat.
Edward followed.
"I'm coming."
"No."
"Victoria—"
"You have lied to me for twenty-six years."
"I can still help you."
Victoria looked at him.
"If Lucy is hurt, I'll never forgive you."
Edward nodded.
"I know."
The old river bridge stood fourteen miles outside Charleston.
Victoria drove through the darkness.
Detective Marcus Lane followed from a distance.
He had insisted she wait for the police.
Victoria had agreed.
She had not promised to remain in the car.
The marsh was silent.
The old bridge was barely visible beneath the trees.
Victoria stepped out.
"Lucy!"
Nothing.
Then a voice came from beneath the bridge.
"Victoria."
Edward appeared.
He was alone.
"Where is she?"
"I followed the man."
"What man?"
Edward pointed toward the shadows.
An elderly man stepped forward.
Walter Briggs.
He was nearly seventy.
He wore a dark coat.
His expression was calm.
Almost amused.
Lucy stood beside him.