Chapter 6: The Other Daughter
I didn't sleep.
At three in the morning, I was still sitting at my kitchen table, staring at the photograph.
The little girl had my eyes.
My nose.
Even the tiny dimple on her left cheek.
But I had no memory of her.
I called Daniel again.
He answered almost immediately.
"Did you recognize her?""
"Yes.""
"Who is she?""
"I don't know.""
Daniel sighed.
"Her name was Anna.""
"Was?""
"Anna Hayes. She was born two years before you.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"My mother had another daughter?""
"Yes.""
"Why didn't my grandmother tell me?""
"Because Anna disappeared.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Where did she go?""
"That's what Eleanor spent the rest of her life trying to discover.""
I felt a sharp ache behind my ribs.
"Was she my sister?""
"Your half-sister. Same mother. Different father, according to the records I found.""
"Who was her father?""
Daniel hesitated.
"Charles Ashford.""
I closed my eyes.
Another daughter.
Another child connected to the same man.
"Was she raised by him?""
"Not officially. Anna lived with Sarah and Thomas for the first few years. Then, one night, she was gone.""
"How?""
"That's the question.""
I looked at the date on the photograph.
October 14, 1999.
"Daniel, why would Thomas take a photograph of my mother leaving with me if Anna was still missing?""
"Because he wasn't photographing your departure.""
"What was he doing?""
"He was documenting who stayed behind.""
A cold feeling moved through my body.
"Who stayed?""
"Anna.""
I stared at the little girl.
"Are you saying my mother left her?""
"I don't know, Maya. I only know that after that night, Anna's name disappeared from every official record.""
"That's impossible.""
"Not if someone wanted it that way.""
At 9:30 the next morning, I met Daniel at a small café near the railway station.
He was seventy or close to it, with a thin face, silver hair, and a walking cane resting against his chair.
He stood when he saw me.
"You look like Eleanor.""
I sat down.
"Everyone keeps saying that.""
"She was stubborn.""
"Apparently, I inherited that too.""
He smiled faintly.
Then he placed a brown folder on the table.
"These are the documents I managed to keep.""
I opened it.
Inside were hotel records, bank statements, photographs, and several handwritten notes.
One page contained a list of eleven dessert names.
Vanilla.
Chocolate.
Lemon.
Coconut.
Coffee.
Berries.
Honey.
Pistachio.
Cinnamon.
Orange.
Caramel.
I looked up.
"These are the Eleven Seasons.""
Daniel nodded.
"Your grandmother used the recipes as a code.""
"A code for what?""
"Financial account numbers. Dates. Names. She hid information in ingredient measurements and preparation instructions.""
I looked at the pages more carefully.
Some measurements had been circled.
Others had small marks beside them.
"Did she ever explain the code to you?""
"No. She told me the book contained proof of Charles's crimes, but she never gave me the key.""
I remembered the letter.
Each recipe contains a small piece of information about the night Sarah disappeared.
I pulled out my phone and showed Daniel a photograph of the eleven cakes from the competition.
He examined each one.
Then he stopped at the vanilla cake.
"That's it.""
"What?""
"The blue sugar petal.""
I frowned.
"What about it?""
"Your grandmother used to mark important documents with a blue flower. It meant the information was authentic.""
I stared at the photograph.
"Then why did she use it on the cake?""
Daniel looked at me.
"Because she wanted you to recognize it.""
My pulse quickened.
"Recognize what?""
He turned to the final page in the folder.
It contained a photocopy of an old hotel inventory sheet.
Beside the entry for a locked storage room was a handwritten note.
*Eleven Seasons — Original materials. Lower cellar. Cabinet 11.*
I read it twice.
"The Laurent Hotel?""
Daniel nodded.
"Before the hotel was renovated, there was a private storage cellar beneath the old kitchen. Eleanor kept her most important documents there.""
"Is the cabinet still there?""
"I don't know.""
"Then we need to go.""
Daniel shook his head.
"Not yet. Charles has people watching the hotel.""
"How do you know?""
"Because someone broke into my office last night.""
I froze.
"What?""
"They didn't take money. They didn't take my computer. They took one photograph.""
"Which one?""
He slowly pulled a second photograph from his folder.
It showed a young woman standing in front of a hospital.
On the back were two words.
*Anna Ashford.*
I looked at him.
"Why does it say Ashford?""
"Because after she disappeared, someone registered her under Charles's surname.""
I stared at the picture.
The girl was older than the child in the hotel photograph. Perhaps seven or eight.
But she had the same eyes.
"Where was this taken?""
"At a private hospital outside Boston. The photograph was sent to Eleanor six months after Anna vanished.""
"Was she sick?""
Daniel shook his head.
"She was being treated for a broken arm.""
I swallowed.
"Who brought her there?""
"Charles.""
I felt a wave of anger.
"He took his own daughter?""
"That's what the evidence suggests.""
"Then why didn't my grandmother go to the police?""
"She tried. The hospital records were changed. The staff denied ever seeing Anna.""
I looked at the photograph.
There was a small detail I'd missed.
A silver bracelet around the girl's wrist.
A chain with a diamond flower.
The same design Brielle wore at the competition.
I zoomed in.
"Daniel.""
He leaned forward.
"What?""
"Look at the bracelet.""
His face changed.
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
"Because Eleanor told me Anna was wearing that bracelet the night she disappeared.""
I felt my stomach twist.
"Then how did Brielle get it?""
Daniel slowly closed the folder.
"Because Brielle Ashford isn't just Charles's daughter.""
I stared at him.
"What are you saying?""
He looked directly into my eyes.
"She may be Anna.""
At 11:45, I returned to the competition building.
I needed to see Brielle.
I needed to know whether the woman who had tried to destroy my cake was actually the sister I'd never known existed.
But when I entered the pastry kitchen, she wasn't there.
Chef Bennett stood beside the judges' table, speaking to a technician.
"Where's Brielle?"" I asked.
He turned.
"She withdrew from the competition this morning.""
"Why?""
"Her father called. Apparently, there was a family emergency.""
I looked at the empty workstation.
Her apron was gone.
Her tools were gone.
Even the small nameplate had been removed.
"Did she say where she was going?""
"No.""
I pulled out my phone.
There was a message from an unknown number.
*Stop asking about Anna. You don't know what you're getting into.*
I showed Bennett.
His expression darkened.
"Maya, this has gone far enough. You need to report these threats.""
"I will. But first, I need to know something.""
"What?""
"Can I access the old hotel kitchen?""
He frowned.
"Why?""
"Because my grandmother hid something there.""
He stared at me.
Then he looked toward the storage corridor.
"There's something I haven't told you.""
My heart began to pound.
"What?""
"Before Brielle withdrew, she came here and asked me for the original competition registration documents.""
"Why?""
"She said she needed to verify your date of birth.""
I felt cold.
"Did you give them to her?""
"No. But she left something behind.""
He opened a drawer and pulled out a small white envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed two baby girls lying side by side in hospital bassinets.
One had a blue ribbon.
The other had a pink one.
On the back was a handwritten message.
*The first daughter was mine. The second was Eleanor's secret.*
I stared at the photograph.
At the bottom, beneath the hospital stamp, was a name.
The mother.
Sarah Hayes.
And beside it, written in a different hand, was a date.
October 14, 1998.
The day I was born.
I looked up at Chef Bennett.
"Why would someone leave this for me?""
He didn't answer.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice whispered through the speaker.
"Maya?""
I stopped breathing.
"Who is this?""
A long silence followed.
Then the woman said:
"My name is Anna. And if you want to know why Brielle tried to destroy your cake, you need to listen carefully.""
I gripped the phone.
"Where are you?""
"Don't tell anyone I contacted you.""
"Are you my sister?""
Her breathing became unsteady.
Then she whispered:
"Yes. But there's something Grandma Eleanor never told you.""
"What?""
"She didn't hide me from Charles.""
A pause.
"She hid me from you.""
The call disconnected.
And when I looked back at the photograph of the two babies, I noticed something written beneath the hospital stamp.
A second set of names.
May you like
*Baby A — Anna Hayes.*
*Baby B — Maya Ashford.*
