Chapter 10 - The Brother Who Wore My Face
Saint Agnes had been abandoned for twenty years.
Its brick walls rose above the Hudson like a decaying fortress. Windows were boarded. Ivy covered the eastern wing. Rusted playground equipment stood motionless in the weeds.
We arrived before sunset.
I brought Marco, Elena, Lucia, and my mother.
Father Gabriel remained with Lily and Sofia under heavy protection.
My mother sat beside me in the armored vehicle.
“You do not have to go inside,” I said.
“Yes, I do.”
“You may be walking into your execution.”
“I helped create this.”
“You were manipulated.”
“I also made choices.”
For once, she did not ask for forgiveness.
That made me listen.
“What is my brother’s name?”
“Teresa called him Julian.”
“Did my father know he survived?”
“I don’t know.”
The hospital entrance stood open.
Inside, battery-powered lamps illuminated a path through the lobby.
Children’s drawings covered the walls.
Four little girls holding hands beneath a yellow sun.
At the bottom, someone had written:
Lily. Sofia. Grace. Hope.
Elena touched the names.
“The girls on the screen.”
A speaker crackled.
“Welcome home, brother.”
The voice sounded like mine.
We followed it into an old operating theater.
A man stood beneath the surgical lights.
Julian.
Seeing him felt like looking into a mirror shaped by another life.
He was thinner than I was. A white scar crossed his jaw. His suit was expensive but worn carelessly.
The two girls stood behind him.
Grace and Hope.
One held his hand.
They did not appear frightened of him.
My mother covered her mouth.
Julian smiled.
“Hello, Evelyn.”
My mother began crying.
“You’re alive.”
“Disappointing, isn’t it?”
“I never wanted you harmed.”
“You wanted Adrian.”
“I was given Adrian.”
“And I was returned like damaged merchandise.”
His smile disappeared.
Teresa emerged from behind the observation glass.
She wore a white coat.
“Julian was never damaged,” she said. “He was simply more useful elsewhere.”
I raised my weapon.
Armed men appeared in the balconies.
Julian lifted one hand.
“Not yet.”
The guards lowered their rifles slightly.
That told me Julian, not Teresa, controlled them.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“My life.”
“You have one.”
“I have yours without the comforts.”
He walked closer.
“You received the Moretti name, the mansion, the empire, the father, the mother.”
“You had Teresa.”
His face hardened.
“You think that was a gift?”
Teresa watched without emotion.
Julian continued.
“She raised me in clinics. I learned to lie before I learned to read. I slept beneath cameras. Every fever became a test. Every friendship became leverage.”
The girls pressed closer to him.
“But you raised Grace and Hope,” I said.
“I saved them.”
“From whom?”
“From our mother.”
Teresa’s expression sharpened.
Julian laughed softly.
“She told you I stole Isabella’s twins?”
“She implied it.”
“She lies even when the truth would serve her better.”
He motioned toward the girls.
“These children were born at Saint Agnes to women the Crown experimented on. Their mothers died. Teresa planned to use the girls as substitutes if she ever needed to control you.”
“Then Lily and Sofia are mine?”
“Yes.”
The relief was so sudden it hurt.
Julian looked at Elena.
“Lucia can confirm it. She altered the report before she was captured.”
Lucia stepped forward.
“You knew?”
“I found your hidden notes.”
She stared at him.
“You were the person who smuggled food into the cells.”
“Yes.”
Elena looked between them.
“You helped my sister?”
“I could not free the prisoners without exposing myself.”
“You could have tried.”
“I did. Three times. People died.”
There was shame beneath his answer.
Not innocence.
But not cruelty either.
I lowered my gun slightly.
“Why summon us here?”
“To end the Crown.”
Teresa laughed.
“You would not survive a week without it.”
Julian ignored her.
“She controls courts, hospitals, financial institutions, private security firms. The ledger can destroy her network.”
“Where is it?”
He looked at my mother.
“Evelyn knows.”
My mother shook her head.
“I don’t.”
“You carried it out of the Moretti mansion the night Isabella died.”
“I carried a music box.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“Where is it?”
“In the family chapel crypt.”
Teresa moved first.
She grabbed Hope and pressed a scalpel to her throat.
Julian’s men raised their weapons.
“Drop them,” Teresa ordered.
No one moved.
She cut the girl’s skin enough to produce a line of blood.
Julian went pale.
“Do it.”
Weapons struck the floor.
Teresa smiled at him.
“You always mistake attachment for strength.”
“No,” I said. “You mistake it for weakness.”
I fired at the surgical light above her.
Glass exploded.
Darkness filled the theater.
Marco and Elena moved simultaneously.
Gunfire erupted from the balconies.
I crossed the floor and struck Teresa’s wrist. The scalpel fell.
Julian pulled Hope away.
My mother grabbed Grace and shielded her beneath the operating table.
Emergency lights flashed on.
Three of Teresa’s guards were down.
The others had surrendered to Julian’s men.
Teresa lay beneath my knee.
For the first time, fear entered her eyes.
“Where is Isabella’s ledger?” I asked.
She smiled through blood.
“You still think paper can destroy me?”
Julian searched her coat.
He found a trigger device.
A timer displayed thirty seconds.
“Bomb,” he said.
The hospital doors locked.
Steel shutters covered the windows.
Teresa laughed.
“This building was always meant to become a grave.”
Julian looked toward the girls.
Then toward a sealed elevator at the rear of the theater.
“There is one exit,” he said. “But it only opens from the laboratory below.”
May you like
The timer reached twenty-five seconds.
And Teresa whispered, “Only one twin knows the code.”
