Chapter 3 - The Secret in the Walls
"You shouldn't have come up here," a voice hissed from the darkness.
Sarah spun around, dropping her phone. The flashlight beam rolled across the floor, illuminating Helena standing at the top of the stairs, her eyes wild and furious.
"Mother... what is this?" Sarah’s voice shook as she pointed at the crib and the photograph. "Who is the other baby? Who is this?"
Helena walked slowly into the light, her face twisting into a mask of bitter resentment. "She was your sister, Clara. She was perfect. Gentle, obedient, and beautiful. Not a rebellious, selfish brat like you."
"A sister? I have a sister? Where is she, Mother? What happened to Clara?" Sarah demanded, tears welling in her eyes. All her life, she had felt a strange, hollow void inside her, a feeling of being half-complete.
May you like
"She died because of you," Helena spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You were three years old. You pushed her. You pushed her down the stairs, Sarah. I had to send her away to a private care facility where she eventually passed. I spent my life savings protecting you, covering up your crime so you wouldn't be taken by social services. And this is how you repay me? By bringing your bastard child into my house and demanding answers?"
The revelation hit Sarah like a physical blow. The room spun. She remembered a fall—she remembered screaming and crying—but she had always believed she was the one who fell. Had she really killed her own sister?
