by Hannah Hill
“Don’t worry, Lulu. I promise I’ll get to your place before sundown.”
We said farewell on a high note, never imagining that I would not show up for dinner that night and would soon be swept up by a whirlwind of unexpected events destined to forever twist my fate.
I drove down to Fifth Avenue feeling rather guilty. After all, I hated having to lie to my father. But this time I really couldn’t find the courage to let him know the truth.
After leaving my car in a nearby valet garage I walked to the main office of the Enigma Intelligence Agency, considered one of the finest investigation agencies in town. As agreed, the retired police detective and former special agent Mike Jackson was expecting me. Yes, he was a top notch private investigator and to my knowledge one of the best in New York City.
I had hired Detective Jackson only a few weeks back to find out all he could about my birth parents whose identities, backgrounds, and whereabouts I was completely ignorant of.
I knew I had been adopted when I was only eight weeks old but that was basically all I knew, apart from the fact that my adoptive parents were infertile and had found me in the Spence-Chapin agency. Unfortunately they had deliberately ignored who my real parents were, whether or not they were still alive, and under what circumstances I had been given up for adoption.
Of course, when I visited Spence-Chapin a couple of months ago, they refused to let me see my records. And since there was no way I could get any sort of information directly from them, I decided to hire a private investigator.
Earlier that day Detective Jackson had called me to say he had found vital information about my birth parents, my past, and where I came from.
The fact that I had specifically asked him not to bring any of his findings over to my house until I came to see him made it only feasible that we meet in his office.
The bold sign on the wide bronze door reading “New York Intelligence Agency,” and the words “Private Investigations,” made me certain I had reached the right place, after having made the mistake of wandering elsewhere the first time I had sought him out to help me.
I entered the agency’s fancy lobby with nothing but a rush of anxiety fueling my body and an unceasing wave of thoughts flashing across my worried mind.
What if I found out things I wouldn’t like? I asked myself while following his secretary up to the celebrated detective’s office. My heart raced hard, making me numb in the knees. I felt the taste of anxiety in my mouth, and boy did it taste like torture. My throat was dry and my palms began exuding copious amounts of water. I desperately wiped it off against my black dress in a bid to gain some level of control.
Remember Bella, whatever he’s found changes nothing, I told myself just before entering his office. Whatever he tells me will change absolutely nothing at all, I reminded myself again, in a bid to remain calm and shove off the nervousness which had begun to eat at me deeply within.
His door had the following inscription:
“Mike Jackson PI: Whatever is hidden, I unearth; whatever they hope to hide, I find. I’m your best choice at snooping around.”
It was pretty much a cocky inscription, but I was aware of his success rate from the list of jobs he was swamped with when I first contacted the agency.
Ever since I hired him, and up to the movement he rang my cell to inform me of his progress and the need for me to hear him out, I had never thought of how difficult it would be to actually find out the truth about my past and lineage.
Jackson had made me pay half his wage up front, billing me higher than usual after finding out I was the daughter of the owner of the Manhattan Journal.
Summoning the final piece of courage I had within me, I took a deep breath and glanced at the private eye’s office; its walls were literally covered with large bookcases filled with books and thick folders. Behind his wide oak desk sat Detective Jackson with his thick glasses and goofy beard, his arms crossed over his chest, which coincidentally was same position I had left him in the first time I’d gone to see him.
I knew it was now or never. So, decidedly, I stepped into his office expecting to discover both the details of my most remote past as well as those of the future fate had in store for me. But little did I know that a shadow of horror was just about to creep upon me.
CHAPTER 3
“What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be”.
Ellen Burstyn
“HELLO MISS SHADE, I’ve been waiting to see you,” Jackson greeted me with a wide smile, looking through his weird glasses at what looked to be my file.
I nervously nodded, remaining wordless until he kindly asked me to sit down in front of his wide ebony desk.
“Well, well, well, Miss Shade, I guess we may as well get down to business,” he slowly said before handling the dark brown file that lay before him and slowly parting it open, a hard-to-read expression that only showed deep bitterness and uncertainty on his face.
“Please Detective Jackson,” I summoned impatiently. “Whatever it is you’ve found, can you just lay it out?”
“Sure thing Miss Shade, but now that you seem in a hurry to find out,” he replied with a snort, “I’d like to see the remaining half of my payment before I tell you what I managed to find and hand you this file.”
He winked in a manner provoking enough to make me want to slap him across the face, before stretching out his hand to collect the money, which I pulled out from my bag and handed over.
He took his time to count the bills before breaking the news to me.
“Now that we got that out of the way, I must say I was able to dig up some interesting facts about your origins, Miss Shade,” he began by saying. “And these include both good news as well as quite sad news”.
“Sad? Please, don’t tell me my mother is a prostitute who chose to drop me by a dumpster where I was found and taken to the orphanage,” I cried, clenching my fists together underneath his desk, which helped to conceal my worry.
“Your birth parents were Mark and Lilly Grey, both New York doctors who worked in the Manhattan General Hospital before their unexpected and tragic death only a few weeks after you were born.”
“You mean they’re dead?”
“Yes, Miss Shade. They died in a car accident on their way back from work sixteen years ago. Fortunately, both of you were with your nanny back home,” Jackson explained, laying a hint of information that rattled me.
“What do you mean by ‘both of you’?” I asked almost immediately, still shocked after learning the fatidic fate of my birth parents.
“Oh sorry, I forgot to mention that you have an identical twin sister Miss Shade.”
“A twin sister?”
“That’s just what I said, Miss Shade.”
“What? Is she alive?”
“Yes. Your twin sister is very much alive. And she lives not far from here.”
“Where?”
“In Rumson, New Jersey, a prosperous city in Monmouth County, near the Southeast corner of New York State.”
“What else do you know about her?”
“Not much except her address and the school she goes to. But I must say she’s very much like you, Miss Shade. I´d say you’re both identical!”
“Identical?”
“Just like you heard. Not even I could tell you both apart! But that’s not all. A couple of days ago I went to New Jersey and parked in front of her adoptive home. I waited for hours but it was worth it for in the end. I managed to take these pictures,” he said, taking a couple of photos from my file before showing them to me.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw her. There she was, my twin sister, and she actually looked exactly like me!
“Her name is Layla Poe,” he added, “and according to the records she was adopted only a few days before you were.”
Lost in confusion, I tried to piece together everything I had just heard and seen.
The fact that I had lost two mothers plus a father during my s
hort lifetime struck me hard. However, I was oddly glad my birth parents had loved me and hadn’t abandoned me as I had feared but had been taken away from me by death.
But this other information about having an identical twin sister living in New Jersey was shocking and sent ripples of mixed emotions through me.
“Your sister Layla was adopted by a rich couple, Daniel and Mayra Poe, wealthy owners of one of New Jersey’s most lucrative shopping centers,” Jackson added, easing the bludgeoning news he had given me just a while back.
“What else did you find out?”
“That´s basically all I’ve got, Miss Shade. You’ll find your sister’s address in this file in case you decide to contact her,” he said kindly, handing it to me.
“Do you think I should meet her?”
“Why not? I certainly would if I were you.”
“Well, thank you Detective Jackson,” I said rising from my chair. “I’ll definitely think about meeting Layla. I must admit you did a really fine job.”
“Take care, Miss Shade. And don’t forget to call me if you ever need me. Working for you has been a real pleasure.”
CHAPTER 4
“People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death.”
Jim Morrison
IT WAS ALMOST SUNDOWN when I left Detective Jackson’s office. Holding the file he’d given me with both hands, I pondered my next move.
I could not stop thinking about Layla as I walked out of the building and hurried back to my car. What should I do? I asked myself. Should I go meet my new sister or leave things as they are?
It only took me a few minutes to clear my mind and decide that I’d really love to meet her. After all, she was my only true living relative and I had her address in hand.
After getting into my car I started the engine and recalled the day I’d found out I was adopted, exactly two weeks before my 15th birthday. That day my parents took me to my favorite park and told me they had originally agreed to tell me all about my origins when I reached my teens, not only because I truly deserved it but also because, sooner or later as Dad always said, “the truth always comes out.” And it sure did!
I remember silently listening to them as they told me all they knew, which really wasn’t much. They couldn’t have children, Mom explained, so they chose to adopt. The agency never told them who my biological parents were nor the circumstances surrounding my birth. All I can say is that my jaw literally dropped when I heard what they had to say. Everything was so hard to believe!
It was truly hard for me to accept that the parents I’d known for almost 15 years really weren't my biological relatives. But at least that explained plenty of things, like the fact that I had always felt I was different from the rest of the family.
All of the sudden, things that had never made sense started making sense, like why I had never seen any pictures of myself as a newborn and the fact that I’m the only one in the family with light blonde hair and blue eyes.
I remember as a kid asking my parents why I didn´t look like them, though my grandparents had always said I did. I never saw the resemblance. After all, Mom was a brunette with hazel eyes, just like my grandmom, while Dad had black hair and brown eyes, just like the rest of his family.
Learning the truth was truly hard to digest. However, in the end my parents warmly hugged me and reminded me of how much they had always loved and cared for me, adding that the fact that I was adopted had never mattered to them. I was and had always been their beloved baby girl. And I had always loved them so.
As I pulled out of the parking lot I felt that my life was dramatically changing once again. I couldn’t believe I truly had a sister! I wanted to find out all I could about her, so why not just go see her at once? My desire to meet her was simply too strong to ignore.
Yes I know, it was getting late and, as Dad always said, driving around alone at night wasn’t safe for a young girl like me. But I literally had no choice. I just had to meet my twin sister.
Butterflies filled my belly as I took the highway and headed down to New Jersey thinking of Layla who, for better or for worse, was destined to forever change my life.
My drive to Rumson, New Jersey took no less than an hour. Zillions of confused thoughts popped into my mind, scrambling my head as I drove.
Should I meet her after all or was it a bad idea? Was I rushing things and taking this whole thing a bit too far? Didn’t my father deserve to know the truth before I met my new sister? And what if Layla and I didn’t get along after meeting and she ended up rejecting me?
Seeking to ease my nerves, I turned the radio on and enjoyed a couple of songs before I was shaken by a news bulletin that took me by surprise:
“A second murder victim was just found by New York detectives in the Hudson Canal. Just like the first victim, found this morning, she’d had her neck ripped out and was missing several vital organs.
“According to information just released by the NYPD, the new victim was identified as Anne Marie Adams, a 16-year-old high school student who was reported missing last weekend. Unlike the previous victim, she was brutally battered and raped before being murdered.
“NYPD officials believe this new crime was also committed by the Red Claws Vampire Gang, responsible for over twenty similar cases in Manhattan. No additional news regarding the circumstances surrounding her violent death were provided.
“Mary Lopez, 17, said she'd been friends with the victim for five years and that they were "like sisters." She said she didn't initially fear the worst when she heard her friend had gone missing.
“‘Anne Marie had disappeared several times in the past and stayed at friends' houses,’ Mary Lopez said. ‘So I thought this was just another one of those times. However, as the days passed I inevitably ended up thinking that this time it could be more serious. But I never suspected that Anne Marie had been kidnapped by the vampire gang and that she would end up suffering such a horrific death.’
“As the investigation continues, New York authorities are warning residents to be on the lookout for teenagers with red claw tattoos and to avoid going out alone at night.
“Stay tuned for more news.”
CHAPTER 5
“When a man's knowledge is not in order, the more of it he has the greater will be his confusion.”
Herbert Spencer
AFTER CROSSING THE LINCOLN TUNNEL I took the New Jersey Turnpike and finally reached the waterfront town of Rumson. Driving down to Bingham Avenue, I parked my car in front of the white Victorian mansion where my sister Layla lived with her adoptive family.
I walked up to the main gate and admired the impressive three-story residence, fenced by stone walls and surrounded by vast and beautiful gardens softly illuminated in the full moon.
From the looks of things, it was more than evident that my twin sister was pretty well off.
All I had to do was ring the doorbell to come face to face with her but as I raised my hand, a sudden wave of fear and paranoia engulfed me. I could feel my breath tense up as I pulled back from ringing the bell.
What if all this is nothing but a huge mistake? I questioned myself, the fear of the unknown ravaging my mind. What if Layla still ignores that she’s adopted and for some reason her parents don’t want her to know? Would she resent them for not having told her the truth or even rebel against them only because of me? And what if she ends up rejecting me for telling her the truth? Oh, Lord, what should I do? Ring the bell or put it off?
My heart raced like crazy and my knees threatened to buckle as the cold night permeated my body. I stood there, silently, without a decision in mind and deeply hoping I could come up with one.
No, I just can’t do this, I finally said to myself before turning around to leave, just as a black limousine halted in front of the residence.
Suddenly tense, I hoped it wasn’t Layla or her parents. To my surprise, however, a gorgeous young guy jumped out from the back seat
of the limo and turned to me, smiling.
I felt my heart melt as I laid eyes upon his perfect body, dressed in a black suit. As he walked towards me, I felt irresistibly attracted to him. I examined him from head to toe and was left without words. He was so stunning I simply couldn’t believe my eyes!
Struck in awe of his handsomeness, I silently admired his divine good looks. He had a cute dimple perfectly dented into his left cheek and his eyes were blue enough to shame the moon in its presence, while his lips were naturally red and his jaw well framed to every specification I craved.
“Hey Bae!” he said as he got closer. “You’re not thinking about leaving without your Pietro, are you? I’m sorry I didn’t call, I was too busy. But now I´m free and just had to see you again, Layla!”
Layla? I thought to myself. I was about to correct him, but before I could utter a word he warmly wrapped his strong arms around me, leaving me speechless.
Pressing my body against his, he softly brushed his lips against mine, making me shiver. Paralyzed by desire, I could not pull back although I knew it was the right thing to do. Somehow, he was casting some kind of spell on me!
A delicious flame burst within me when he pressed his lips against mine, gently parting them before introducing his hungry tongue.
I clutched his broad shoulders with both hands and moaned into his kiss as his tongue caressed mine. Trembling in joy, I kissed him back and felt I was floating in heaven, before I sighed and he unexpectedly broke our kiss.
“It’s getting late, Layla. We need to go now,” he softly whispered, taking my hand as a warm blush covered my cheeks.
Before my head could stop spinning he walked me to his limousine and, after his chauffer opened the back door for us, we swiftly drove off into the night.
CHAPTER 6
“There is no disguise which can hide love for long where it exists, or simulate it where it does not.”
Francois de La Rochefoucauld
THE LIMOUSINE PARKED at the end of a long driveway, lined with pine trees, that led to an impressive waterfront mansion set on the banks of the Navesink River. Surrounded by a gorgeous garden with a large pond and shaped like a small, medieval castle, the gray stone building had two tall towers, large octagon windows, and was circled by an iron fence.
