Surely, they had because they’d not been allowed to flourish beyond these walls. Or maybe they had the lives we’d so desperately wanted. All those years when Mom and Dad weren’t around, this was where they’d come.
Soon, I’d be able to ask these questions myself. Soon, I’d see what they looked like. Would she look like me? Would she hate me even though I had no part in this?
The sun had set over the vast estate. It was bigger than the home I grew up in, but it was obvious the real Anya and Archie lacked for nothing. The grounds of the property were deserted. The woodland surrounding it provided the kind of cover a family in hiding might need.
And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was terribly wrong.
Don’t do that to yourself.
Don’t carry the blame.
Yet, I did as if I was the cause of all this turmoil.
The home I grew up in was a fortress. I found it hard to believe Stephen didn’t provide the same level of security for his blood. Following the woman I had once thought of as my mother, I watched as her skin paled and terror reflected in her eyes as she came to the same conclusion as me.
Something had happened here . . .
But what?
The surrounding air was heavy, and when I inhaled deeply, I thought I could smell copper. The scent of blood. Or maybe it was the acrid scent of dread. Afraid to walk another step. Afraid to open the door. Afraid to see what lurked behind the walls.
Would there be carnage?
With a sharp inhale, I summoned every bit of strength I had, ready to take a step forward. But first, I threw a glance at my mother.
“Are you coming?”
Our gazes locked.
Fear festered in her eyes, and her hands shook as doubt swept across her eyes.
“I can go in alone if you want,” I whispered.
Cassius wouldn’t hurt me. If he was still here, he could hurt her. Without a doubt, he would try.
“Maybe it’d be safer if I go in alone.” I tried to convince myself.
She squared her shoulders, making the trepidation go away as fast as it presented itself. “They’re my children.”
Right, because if you want to just stab a knife into my heart while you’re at it—go ahead. My mom had already done so much damage, she’d be hard-pressed to have anything left to destroy.
With a nod, I looked up at the imposing door, then reached out and turned the handle.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but when it opened with no resistance, I felt like I’d gotten punched in the stomach. A part of me hoped we weren’t too late and wished with all my heart this nervous feeling weaving its way inside was unwarranted, but as the door creaked open, I knew deep in my gut Cassius had been here.
Together, we headed in.
It was bathed in darkness like I was walking into a crime scene. Our footsteps echoed as we progressed farther inside, bouncing off the walls and breaking the silence. The fine hairs on my forearms prickled.
It was warm. Somewhere in the house, a window or door had been left open, allowing the musky Louisiana air to filter in.
Too thick to breathe. Or maybe it was fear that made inhaling a struggle.
“This way,” she said.
I followed, wary of each step she took because I didn’t trust anything she did. As we walked through the foyer, I took it all in.
They’d lived in luxury. Enough gold and silver décor to clash like a bad headache. It aged this place up by giving it a twisted, regal flair like a madman had done his worst in trying to pretty up the place.
We climbed a vast staircase.
“Anya,” she called out into the void. “Archie!”
I startled, but then realized she was calling out to them.
My chest ached with the harsh reality that she was calling to her real children. My name wasn’t my own. Not even stolen but given away to a girl who was meant to die because of it—me. That was what this woman had planned. Spending one more second with her felt sacrilegious, like insanity weaving around my body.
Jesus. They’d even gone with the family portraits on the walls as though no one would see their warped minds. The photo of them all as one happy family was sickening to look at. She was pretty, the other Anya, brunette like me and with the sweetest face. Archie wore glasses and looked so damn innocent it made my heart break for him. My jealousy melted into sympathy.
Please be alive.
We found the same thing in each room as we searched.
Nothing.
Not one person in this place.
The only sign anyone had ever lived here was the half-eaten sandwich we found on a blue china plate in the kitchen. Life, that was what had happened here. Two children who mirrored the ones in the Garden District, but these were the precious ones.