CHAPTER 7: THE HOUSE WHERE SHE DIED
Rain covered the road leading to the old Vale estate.
Marcus drove.
Claire Bennett sat beside Adrian in the back seat.
Claire Vale sat across from them with her pistol resting on her knee.
No one trusted anyone.
The mansion appeared beyond the trees shortly before midnight.
Claire remembered flames rising from the roof.
She remembered a woman carrying her through smoke.
She remembered another child screaming her name.
The estate should have been a ruin.
Instead, every window glowed with warm yellow light.
“It has been rebuilt,” Adrian said.
“No,” Claire whispered. “It has been restored.”
The front door opened before they reached it.
A little girl stood on the steps.
She wore a white nightgown.
Her dark hair hung wet around her face.
“Clara,” she called.
Claire stopped walking.
The girl looked exactly like Claire had looked at seven years old.
Then she ran inside.
Claire chased her.
“Wait!”
Marcus shouted after her, but Claire had already crossed the entrance hall.
The interior was identical to her memories.
The grandfather clock.
The marble staircase.
The portrait of Helena Vale.
Even the smell of lavender candles.
The little girl disappeared upstairs.
Claire followed her wet footprints to the nursery.
Three beds stood inside.
One labeled CLARA.
One labeled CLAIRE.
One labeled E.
A music box played beside the window.
Adrian entered behind her.
“What is this place?”
“A reconstruction.”
Claire Vale touched the bed bearing her name.
“I remember this room.”
Claire looked at her.
“So do I.”
The closet door opened.
The little girl stood inside.
She looked toward Adrian.
“Daddy.”
Adrian stepped backward.
“I don’t have a daughter.”
The child smiled.
“Not yet.”
Then the closet wall slid aside.
A staircase descended beneath the mansion.
Evelyn’s voice rose from below.
“You’re late.”
They followed the staircase into an underground chamber.
Richard sat tied to a chair.
Beside him stood the second Richard.
The copy looked older and colder.
A scar crossed his left eyebrow.
“I am August Vale,” he said.
Richard stared at him.
“My father’s brother.”
August smiled.
“Your father was the copy.”
Richard’s face changed.
“No.”
“The Vale family began replacing inconvenient heirs before you were born.”
Claire approached.
“Where is my mother?”
August looked toward the ceiling.
“Which version?”
He pressed a button.
A glass wall became transparent.
Behind it were six women.
Each woman had Helena Vale’s face.
Different ages.
Different hairstyles.
Identical eyes.
Claire’s knees weakened.
August spread his hands.
“Welcome to your family.”
One of the women stepped forward.
She placed her palm against the glass.
Richard whispered her name.
“Helena.”
The woman shook her head.
Then she pointed toward Evelyn.
May you like
Evelyn slowly removed a thin layer of artificial skin from her cheek.
Beneath it was Helena’s face.
