Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Wing
The private family wing of the Hastings mansion was a fortress of silent luxury—soft velvet carpets, mahogany paneling, and warm yellow light from crystal sconces.
Daniel carried me into a grand master suite, placing me face-down on a plush leather sofa while Eleanor immediately ordered the family’s private physician, Dr. Harrison, to the room. Within minutes, my torn shirt was cut away, my wounds cleaned, antiseptics applied, and sharp stitches woven through the deep gashes on my shoulder blades.
I lay there, wrapped in a soft cashmere blanket, staring at a hot cup of tea sitting on the mahogany coffee table in front of me.
Daniel sat on the edge of the sofa, his jacket removed, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms. He held an old, velvet-bound photo album in his hands.
"Look," he whispered gently, turning the page.
I looked down at the faded color photograph. A young girl, roughly two years old, was sitting on a lawn laughing in a sun-drenched garden. She had emerald eyes, soft dark hair, and on her raised left wrist was the exact same star-shaped birthmark. Beside her stood a ten-year-old Daniel, smiling brightly as he held her hand.
"Her name was Lily Hastings," Daniel said, his voice thick with emotion. "You were two years old when you were taken from your bedroom right here in this mansion. The kidnappers demanded fifty million dollars. My father paid it, but when we went to the drop site, you weren't there. A week later, your small winter coat was found floating near the harbor. The police concluded you fell into the freezing water and drowned."
"My parents..." I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes. "The people who raised me... Marcus and Sarah Johnson..."
"They were registered as foster parents in rural Maine twenty years ago," Eleanor said from her armchair, her eyes shining with tears. "We just ran a background check through our security team. They adopted you officially when you were three years old after you were found abandoned at a fire station in Portland. They were good people, weren't they?"
"They were wonderful," I wept, remembering the small, loving home in Maine, the endless winter snow, and how hard they had worked before they both passed away in a car accident three years ago, leaving me to raise seven-year-old Leo alone. "They gave me everything they had... but they never knew where I came from."
"You came from here," Daniel said, taking my hand gently, avoiding my bandaged wrist. "And nobody is ever taking you away again."
Suddenly, the heavy oak door of the suite creaked open.
Dr. Harrison stepped back into the room, holding a tablet with the results of a rapid DNA test—a state-of-the-art portable sequencer the family kept on-site for security verification.
"Mr. Hastings, Madam Eleanor," Dr. Harrison said, his voice trembling slightly. "The DNA comparison between Miss Amara’s blood sample and the family database is complete."
Daniel stood up, his jaw clenched. "Tell us."
"It’s a ninety-nine point nine percent match," Dr. Harrison declared. "Amara Johnson is unequivocally Lily Hastings."
Eleanor covered her mouth, letting out a soft, sob of relief. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep, shuddering breath before looking back at me.
Before anyone could speak further, a soft knock echoed at the door.
May you like
One of the house's head security guards stepped in, leaning down to whisper into Daniel's ear. "Sir... Miss Lane is downstairs in the library. She’s demanding to speak with you privately. She claims she has information regarding how your sister was found... and she's threatening to go to the press about an illegal DNA test if you don't hear her out."
Daniel’s eyes darkened into cold flint. He looked at me, his hand resting reassuringly on my shoulder. "Rest, Lily. I'll be back in five minutes."
