CHAPTER 10 – The Woman Who Lost Her Name
CHAPTER 10 – The Woman Who Lost Her Name
The sound of the gunshot stayed inside Clara’s head.
Not the echo.
Not the explosion.
The moment after.
The terrible silence that followed.
The moment when she realized someone she knew had fallen.
"Thomas!"
Clara dropped beside him.
The old wooden floor beneath them was cold, but she barely felt it.
Blood spread across his shirt.
His eyes were half-open.
Still alive.
Barely.
"Stay with me."
She pressed her hands against the wound.
"Don't you dare die."
Thomas gave a weak laugh.
The sound was painful.
"You always did have a terrible habit..."
He coughed.
"...of saving people who didn't deserve it."
Clara's eyes filled with anger.
"You deserve whatever happens after what you did."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"But you don't deserve to die before you tell me the truth."
Thomas looked at her.
And for the first time, Clara saw something she never expected.
Shame.
"I should have told you sooner."
"Yes."
"I should have protected you."
"Yes."
"I should have stopped her."
Clara's voice broke.
"Yes."
Thomas closed his eyes.
"I know."
Sirens appeared in the distance.
Someone had called emergency services.
But Clara knew something.
The person who shot Thomas was not trying to hide.
They were sending a message.
A message that said:
I can reach anyone.
At the hospital, Thomas was rushed into surgery.
Clara sat alone in the waiting room.
The recorder was hidden inside her coat.
The only evidence that could save Andrew.
The only evidence that could destroy Victoria.
But one sentence kept repeating in her mind.
"The fire was about you."
Not Andrew.
Not the money.
Not the company.
Her.
Hours later, Daniel arrived.
His face was pale.
"What happened?"
"Someone shot Thomas."
Daniel looked shocked.
"Thomas is alive?"
"Yes."
Clara handed him the recorder.
"Listen."
Daniel played it.
The room became silent.
When Victoria's voice came through the speakers, Daniel's expression changed.
"She planned everything."
Clara nodded.
"But there's more."
Daniel looked at her.
"What?"
"Thomas said the fire was about me."
Daniel frowned.
"Why would anyone want you gone?"
Clara looked down.
Because she didn't know.
And that scared her.
Meanwhile, Andrew sat in his prison cell.
Alone.
But for the first time in days...
He was not thinking about himself.
He was thinking about Clara.
About the boys.
About the possibility that someone was still hunting his family.
A guard approached.
"You have a visitor."
Andrew stood.
He expected Daniel.
Or his lawyer.
He did not expect the old woman sitting behind the glass.
His mother's former housekeeper.
Margaret.
Andrew picked up the phone.
"Margaret?"
The elderly woman looked nervous.
"I shouldn't be here."
"Then why are you?"
She looked around.
As if afraid someone was listening.
"Because I know who your wife really was."
Andrew froze.
"What does that mean?"
Margaret opened her purse.
She removed an old envelope.
"This belonged to Clara before she married you."
Andrew stared.
"Why do you have it?"
"Because your father told me to hide it."
Andrew's expression changed.
"My father?"
Margaret nodded.
"He knew Clara before you met her."
The words made no sense.
"Impossible."
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
"Your father knew exactly who she was."
That night, Andrew finally learned the truth about the woman he loved.
Her name was not Clara Bennett.
It had never been.
Margaret opened the envelope.
Inside was an old birth certificate.
A photograph.
And a letter.
Andrew stared at the name.
His hands became cold.
Clara Isabella Moretti.
He looked up.
"Moretti?"
Margaret nodded.
"She was the daughter of Lorenzo Moretti."
Andrew knew that name.
Everyone in their world knew that name.
A powerful businessman.
A man who disappeared after a financial war with Andrew's father.
"Why was she hiding?"
Andrew whispered.
Margaret looked at him.
"Because her father was murdered."
Silence.
"And before he died..."
Margaret continued.
"He left evidence that could destroy some of the most powerful people in the country."
Andrew's mind raced.
"Victoria."
Margaret nodded.
"She wanted what Clara had."
"What?"
"The inheritance."
Andrew frowned.
"But Clara never had money."
Margaret looked at him sadly.
"That is because Clara never knew."
Back at the mansion, Clara sat beside the sleeping boys.
She watched them breathe.
The children she had fought to return to.
The children who never forgot her.
Noah woke slightly.
"Mommy?"
Clara smiled.
"I'm here."
He looked at her.
"Are you leaving again?"
Her heart shattered.
"No."
"But everyone leaves."
Clara held his hand.
"Not me."
"Never again."
Then Ethan, still half asleep, whispered:
"Mommy..."
"Yes?"
"Why did they tell us you were dead?"
Clara froze.
Because she had never been able to answer that.
She didn't know how to explain evil to children.
But now she knew something.
Someone wanted them to forget her.
Someone wanted her erased.
The next morning, Daniel arrived with another discovery.
His face was serious.
"Clara."
She immediately knew.
"What happened?"
Daniel placed a file on the table.
"We found records from before the fire."
She opened it.
Her hands trembled.
The file contained her real identity.
Her birth.
Her family.
Her inheritance.
And one more thing.
A photograph.
A photograph of her father.
Standing beside Andrew's father.
And beside them...
A young Victoria.
Clara stared.
"She knew my father."
Daniel nodded.
"She knew your family before she met Andrew."
Clara looked at the photograph.
The woman who stole her husband.
The woman who stole her children’s memories.
The woman who stole her life.
Had been watching her long before the fire.
Then Daniel pointed at the back of the photograph.
There was handwriting.
A message.
Three words.
"Find the vault."
Clara looked up.
"What vault?"
Daniel turned pale.
"The Moretti family vault."
A place that supposedly did not exist.
A place that contained the secret everyone had killed for.
Suddenly, Clara's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A man's voice spoke.
"Clara Isabella Moretti."
She froze.
Nobody had called her that in years.
"You finally remember your name."
Her blood turned cold.
"Who is this?"
The man laughed softly.
"The man who buried the truth."
A pause.
"And the man who will bury you if you keep searching."
The call ended.
Clara stared at the phone.
Because she knew that voice.
The same voice from the night of the fire.
May you like
The voice that started everything.
End of Chapter 10
