Chapter 3: The Woman Who Disappeared
Marcello read the message on his phone three more times.
*Do not trust the woman wearing the emerald dress.*
The words looked different each time.
The first time, they seemed impossible.
The second time, they seemed like a warning.
The third time, they felt like a threat.
His fingers tightened around the phone.
“Who sent that?”” the woman on the floor asked.
Her voice was quiet, almost afraid of the answer.
Marcello looked at her.
“You tell me.””
The woman lowered her eyes.
“I can’t.””
“You can’t, or you won’t?””
She didn’t answer.
That bothered him.
Everyone in the last thirty minutes had been avoiding answers.
Isabella.
The woman in the room.
Even Lily, in her own strange way.
Everyone knew something.
Everyone was afraid.
And Marcello was tired of being the only person standing in the dark.
He stepped inside the room and helped the woman slowly stand.
She grabbed his arm tightly.
Not in a threatening way.
In the way someone holds onto a lifeline.
“Are you hurt?”” Marcello asked.
She shook her head.
“Not badly.””
“Who did this to you?””
Her eyes moved toward the doorway.
Toward the hallway.
Toward the place where Isabella had disappeared.
“I did it to myself.””
Marcello frowned.
“What?””
The woman closed her eyes.
“I mean… I let it happen.””
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“It will.””
She looked at Lily.
The little girl was standing beside the door, watching her carefully.
The woman’s expression softened.
“She’s the reason I’m still here.””
Marcello glanced down at his daughter.
“What do you mean?””
The woman swallowed.
“She saw me.””
Lily nodded.
“I told Daddy.””
“Yes,” the woman whispered.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“You did.””
Marcello looked between them.
“How does my daughter know you?””
The woman hesitated.
Then she said something that made his stomach drop.
“She knows me because she met me before tonight.””
The hallway went silent.
Marcello stared at Lily.
“Lily?””
His daughter looked up.
“Daddy?””
“Have you seen this woman before?””
Lily nodded.
“When?””
The little girl pointed toward the ballroom.
“Earlier.””
Marcello’s heart started beating faster.
“Where?””
“Downstairs.””
“That’s impossible.””
The woman looked at him.
“Why?””
“Because you were not downstairs.””
The woman’s face changed.
A painful smile appeared.
“Exactly.””
Marcello felt a cold wave move through him.
He looked at the woman again.
She was identical to Isabella.
Not similar.
Identical.
The same face.
The same voice.
The same body.
But the differences were impossible to ignore.
This woman looked exhausted.
Broken.
Human.
The other Isabella had looked untouchable.
Perfect.
Like she had been carefully built.
Marcello turned toward the hallway.
“We need to find her.””
The woman grabbed his sleeve.
“No.””
He looked back.
“No?””
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
She shook her head.
“She wants you to chase her.””
“Why?””
“Because that’s what she does.””
Marcello’s expression hardened.
“Who is she?””
The woman stared at the floor.
Then she whispered:
“My sister.””
The answer should have made things clearer.
It didn’t.
It made everything worse.
“Your sister?””
“Yes.””
“And she’s pretending to be you?””
The woman nodded.
Marcello stared.
“For how long?””
The woman didn’t answer.
That silence was louder than words.
“For how long?”” he repeated.
Finally, she whispered:
“Six months.””
Marcello took a step back.
Six months.
Six months of someone living as another person.
Six months of fooling everyone.
Six months of pretending.
“How did nobody notice?””
The woman gave a bitter laugh.
“Because people only see what they want to see.””
Marcello looked toward the ballroom below.
Hundreds of people had admired Isabella tonight.
They had complimented her.
Taken pictures with her.
Shaken her hand.
Nobody had noticed.
Not one person.
Except Lily.
A three-year-old child.
“Why?”” Marcello asked.
The woman looked at him.
“Why did she do it?””
“Yes.””
The woman’s hands trembled.
“Because she wanted my life.””
“That’s not enough.””
“No.””
She looked toward the mirror on the wall.
Her reflection stared back.
“She wanted more than my life.””
“What more?””
The woman didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“My name.””
Marcello’s eyebrows pulled together.
“I don’t understand.””
“You will.””
A sudden noise came from downstairs.
A glass breaking.
Then another.
Voices rose.
The woman’s face changed.
“She knows we’re here.””
Marcello turned toward the staircase.
“How?””
The woman looked at Lily.
Marcello followed her eyes.
His daughter was staring at the hallway mirror.
Not the staircase.
The mirror.
“Lily?””
The little girl raised her finger.
“Daddy.””
“What?””
“She’s looking at us.””
Marcello turned.
The mirror showed the hallway behind them.
The room.
The staircase.
The three of them.
But standing at the bottom of the stairs…
Was Isabella.
Watching.
Marcello’s blood ran cold.
The real Isabella—or whoever she was—stood completely still.
Her emerald dress shimmered beneath the ballroom lights.
She looked up.
And smiled.
Not a nervous smile.
Not a scared smile.
A confident one.
Like she had been waiting for this moment.
The woman beside Marcello whispered:
“She wants me to come out.””
Marcello stepped in front of her.
“No.””
The woman looked surprised.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.””
“I know enough.””
“You don’t.””
Her voice cracked.
“She doesn’t lose.””
Marcello stared at Isabella through the mirror.
“Everyone loses eventually.””
The woman shook her head.
“You don’t know her.””
“No,” Marcello said.
“But I know my daughter.””
Lily reached for his hand.
“Daddy.””
He looked down.
“What?””
The little girl whispered:
“That’s not the scary part.””
Marcello froze.
“What is?””
Lily pointed at the mirror.
At the hallway.
At the woman downstairs.
“She’s not alone.””
Marcello looked closer.
At first, he saw nothing.
Then the light from the ballroom shifted.
And behind Isabella…
Another figure appeared.
A man.
Standing in the shadows.
Watching them.
Marcello’s breath caught.
The woman beside him covered her mouth.
“No…”
“You know him too?”” Marcello asked.
She didn’t respond.
She couldn’t.
Because the man stepped into the light.
And Marcello recognized him immediately.
It was someone who had greeted him at the entrance earlier that night.
Someone who had shaken his hand.
Someone who had smiled at Lily.
Someone who everyone trusted.
The woman whispered his name.
“Adrian.””
Marcello looked at her.
“Who is Adrian?””
Her face went pale.
Then she answered:
“He’s the reason my sister was able to steal my life.””
The mirror suddenly went dark.
The reflection disappeared.
And when Marcello looked back toward the staircase…
Both Isabella and Adrian were gone.
But on the floor beneath the mirror was something that had not been there before.
May you like
A small black envelope.
With Lily’s name written across the front.
