My husband’s mistress claimed a baby had been stolen twenty-eight years ago.

But the name on the missing child’s birth certificate was the last name I had carried before marrying Julian.

I stared at Selena’s photograph until the screen blurred.

“Bring Nora’s birth certificate.”

Why would anyone want my birth certificate?

And why had Selena mentioned twins born twenty-eight years earlier?

Detective Evelyn Hart immediately contacted the department’s missing-persons unit.

Meanwhile, Dr. Caleb Reed arranged additional security outside my room.

I was no longer simply an injured woman recovering from an attack.

Someone was trying to erase a secret connected to my birth.

And my unborn children had somehow become part of it.

That night, Evelyn returned with a thin folder.

“Nora, I need you to tell me about your childhood.”

I frowned.

“My parents died when I was little. I grew up with my aunt.”

“What was your mother’s name?”

“Elena Bennett.”

Evelyn looked down.

“And your father?”

“Thomas Bennett.”

She opened the folder.

“Do you remember where you were born?”

“St. Catherine’s Hospital.”

Evelyn nodded slowly.

“That’s where we found the first discrepancy.”

She showed me a photocopied hospital record.

My name appeared at the top.

Nora Bennett.

Born at 3:42 a.m.

But beneath it was another entry.

Female infant B.

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Born at 3:47 a.m.

I stared at the page.

“What does that mean?”

Evelyn looked at me.

“Your mother delivered twins.”

I felt as though someone had pulled the ground from beneath my bed.

“No.”

“I’m afraid the records indicate she did.”

“My aunt never told me.”

“According to the hospital, the second baby was transferred to another facility. There is no corresponding discharge record.”

I looked at the two birth times.

Five minutes.

Somewhere in the world, there might be a woman who had been born five minutes after me.

A sister.

A twin.

And nobody had ever told me.

“Who is she?” I whispered.

Evelyn hesitated.

“We’re still trying to establish that.”

Then she showed me another document.

It was an old adoption record.

The adopting family had used a private agency connected to the Vance Foundation.

Julian’s family foundation.

My blood turned cold.

“Julian knew?”

“We don’t know what he knew.”

I thought about the way Julian had pursued me three years earlier.

He had seemed almost impossibly interested in my childhood.

He had asked about my parents.

My aunt.

The hospital where I was born.

I had mistaken his questions for affection.

Now I wondered whether our marriage had been planned long before we met.

At midnight, my aunt Margaret arrived.

She looked older than I remembered.

When I showed her the birth record, she began crying.

“Please forgive me.”

I couldn’t move.

“You knew?”

She nodded.

“Your mother gave birth to two girls.”

“Where is my sister?”

Margaret covered her face.

“Your father was told she had died. But your mother never believed it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because she made me promise to protect you.”

“From whom?”

Margaret looked toward the door.

“From the Vance family.”

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.

Then she reached into her handbag.

She took out a faded photograph.

Two newborn babies lay beside each other in a hospital crib.

One wore a pink bracelet.

The other wore a yellow bracelet.

On the back, my mother had written:

My girls. My whole world.

I pressed the photograph against my chest.

Margaret was still crying.

“Your mother spent years trying to find the second baby. Then your parents were killed in a car accident.”

“Was it really an accident?”

Margaret looked away.

That was answer enough to frighten me.

Before I could ask another question, Evelyn’s phone rang.

She listened.

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Her expression changed.

Then she turned toward me.

“We found Selena.”

“Is she alive?”

“Yes.”

Relief rushed through me.

“Where?”

“At an abandoned property owned by a former Vance Foundation director.”

“Did she say who kidnapped her?”

Evelyn nodded.

“She claims Julian arranged it.”

I closed my eyes.

Of course he had.

But Evelyn wasn’t finished.

“She also told us something about your missing sister.”

I gripped the blanket.

“What?”

Evelyn swallowed.

“She claims to know exactly who your sister is.”

My heart raced.

“Tell me.”

Evelyn placed a photograph on the bed.

It showed Selena as a little girl.

Beside her stood an older woman holding a birthday cake.

On the back was a handwritten message.

Happy sixth birthday, my beautiful daughter.

I stared at the photograph.

Then I noticed something.

A small crescent-shaped birthmark near the girl’s left ear.

I had the same birthmark.

My hands began shaking.

“Selena?”

Evelyn nodded.

“According to the preliminary records, Selena Cole may be your twin sister.”

I couldn’t breathe.

The woman who had smiled while I lay bleeding on my living-room floor.

The woman who had helped destroy my marriage.

The woman who had convinced my husband to attack me.

Might be my own sister.

Then my phone vibrated.

A message from Julian.

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It contained a single photograph.

My aunt Margaret standing outside the hospital earlier that evening.

Below it, Julian had written:

“Ask her what she received in exchange for keeping you apart.”

I slowly raised my eyes toward Margaret.

Her face had gone completely white.

And for the first time in my life, the woman who had raised me looked afraid of the truth.