Chapter 16 A dangerous possibility
Flora
The door locked behind him with a cold click.
I sat alone in the darkness, my whole body shaking. Not from cold. From fear. From confusion. And from the terrible possibility that was growing in my mind.
What if he was right?
No. That was crazy. I wasn't Eva. I couldn't be Eva.
But the birthmark.
I reached over my shoulder, trying to feel it. I'd never paid much attention to it though people made fun of me when they see it. But it was just there as a part of me like my freckles or my hair color.
But now it felt like a curse.
How could Rafael's dead wife have the exact same birthmark in the exact same place?
The odds were impossible.
Unless…
Unless I really was her.
No! I shook my head violently. That was insane. People don't come back from the dead. That's not how the world works.
I'm Flora Rossi. I have memories. A childhood. A life.
My mother died when I was sixteen. I remember her funeral. It was raining that day. And I cried until I couldn't breathe.
My father died three months later. I remember that too. Coming home from work to find him on the couch. Cold and gone.
Those memories were real. I felt them.
But a small voice in my head whispered. What if they're not real?
What if Rafael is right? What if those memories were planted to explain your existence?
"Stop it," I whispered to myself. "You're letting him get in your head. That's what he wants."
I pulled the duvet tighter around my naked body. I needed clothes. I needed to feel human again.
I stood slowly, careful not to pull the IV from my arm. I walked to the closet and opened it.
Eva's clothes were perfectly arranged. Rafael had arranged them for me. All of them. Her dresses, blouses and skirts.
I picked one and tried it on, then another, then another.
And everything fit perfectly.
How was everything in my exact size? It couldn't just be coincidence.
Unless Eva and I were the same size. Same height, same build, same person?
"No," I said firmly. "Lots of people are the same size. That doesn't mean anything."
I pulled out a simple nightgown and put it on and it also fit perfectly. Of course it did.
I walked back to the bed and sat down heavily. The IV drip continued its steady beeping.
Tomorrow, Rafael said he would deal with Isabella. What did that mean?
Would he hurt her? Kill her?
Isabella was trying to help me. She was building a case to prove I was kidnapped. To get me freed.
But if Rafael stopped her, I'd have no hope of escape.
I have to do something. I have to find a way to help Isabella and get word to her somehow.
But how? I was locked in a room.
There had to be a way.
The window. I walked over to it and looked out. I was on the second floor. It was too high to jump without breaking something.
But I could see the grounds. The gardens. The gate in the distance.
Freedom was so close. And yet impossible to reach.
I pressed my hand against the glass. It was cold, solid and reinforced.
Even if I broke it, alarms would sound. Guards would come. I'd be caught before I made it ten feet.
I was trapped. Completely and utterly trapped.
Tears streamed down my face again. I was so tired of crying. But I couldn't stop.
The door suddenly opened. I jumped, expecting Rafael.
But it was Marco.
He looked at me with such sadness in his eyes. "Miss Rossi, I'm sorry to disturb you. But I need to ask you something."
"What?" My voice was hoarse.
He stepped inside and closed the door quietly. "Do you have any family? Anyone who would notice you're missing?"
"No. My parents are dead. I have no siblings. No close friends."
He nodded sadly. "I was afraid of that. It makes it easier for him to keep you hidden."
"Are you going to help me escape?"
"I can't. If I did, Rafael would kill me. And probably you too." He paused. "But I can give you information. Isabella is building a case against Rafael. If she goes public, you might be freed."
"Might?"
"Rafael is powerful. He has connections. Even with evidence, it would be hard to convict him."
"So what do I do?"
Marco pulled something from his pocket. A small phone. "Hide this. Don't let anyone see it. If you get a chance, call this number." He showed me a number on the screen. "It's Isabella's private line. Tell her everything."
"Why are you helping me?" My voice shook.
"Because twenty years ago, I watched Rafael fall in love with Eva. She made him human. She made him good. And when she died, he died too." Marco's voice cracked. "I'm helping you because Eva would want me to. She'd hate what he's become."
He handed me the phone. I took it with shaking hands.
"Hide it well. Check it once a day. Isabella might send messages."
"Thank you."
He walked to the door, then paused. "Miss Rossi? That birthmark. Rafael is convinced it proves you're Eva. What if it's proof you might be related to her?"
"How do I prove it?"
"DNA test. We need to compare your DNA to Eva's. Rafael kept samples of Eva's hair and blood after she died."
Marco looked sick saying it. "If you're related, the DNA will show it. If you're not related at all, that proves you're not her. Either way, it's proof."
"Would Rafael agree to a test?"
"Maybe. If I suggest it carefully. If I frame it as a way to prove you ARE Eva."
Hope bloomed in my chest for the first time. "Please. Please try."
“I will.” Marco nodded and left, locking the door behind him.
I stared at the phone in my hands. I couldn't use it now. But tonight, when everyone was asleep, I'd call Isabella and tell her everything.
And maybe, just maybe, I'd finally escape this nightmare.
I hid the phone under the mattress and lay down. My heart was pounding.
The birthmark on my shoulder blade suddenly felt like it was burning.
I couldn't be related to Eva. The possibility terrified me almost as much as being Eva herself.
Because if I was related to her, that meant I had a connection to this world.
I'd never truly be free.
The phone buzzed under the mattress. I pulled it out quickly.
A text from Isabella popped. "Hold on. I’ll come get you."
Tears of relief poured down my face.
Someone was coming to save me.
I typed back with shaking fingers.
"Please hurry. He thinks I'm his dead wife. He found a birthmark that matches hers. He won't let me go."
I hit send and hid the phone again.
Then I waited.
But as time passed.
The door burst open.
And Rafael stood there. His was face dark with rage.
"Who gave you that phone?"
My blood turned to ice.
He knew.