Chapter 7: The House That Held My Secrets
I stared at the message on Marcus’s phone until the words blurred.
A place from my childhood.
A place I hadn’t thought about in years.
The old Bennett family cottage.
No.
Not Bennett.
My childhood home.
The small white house on Willow Creek Road where I had lived with my mother until she passed away.
The house that had been sold after her funeral.
The house where I thought every memory I had was buried.
“How does she know that place?”” I whispered.
Nobody answered.
Marcus looked at me carefully.
“Khloe, what did your mother ever tell you about your birth?””
The question felt strange.
Almost cruel.
“My mother?””
I looked down at my hands.
“She told me my father left before I was born.””
Marcus’s expression changed.
“Did you ever meet him?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
The room became quiet.
Isabella stood near the wall, watching me.
For once, she didn’t look satisfied.
She looked uncomfortable.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”” I asked.
She hesitated.
“Because I think you’re about to learn something nobody wanted you to know.””
Marcus immediately stepped between us.
“That’s enough.””
But I shook my head.
“No.””
I needed answers.
For months, people had been making decisions about my life.
Talking about me.
Judging me.
Protecting secrets from me.
I was tired of being the last person to know.
“I want to hear everything.””
Elaine looked at me.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking.””
I met her eyes.
“I understand perfectly.””
My voice was calmer than I expected.
“You came into my life and tried to control my marriage. Isabella came into my hospital room and threatened me. Someone from Marcus’s past is sending messages about me.””
I placed a hand over my stomach.
“My child is involved.””
I looked around the room.
“So yes. I want the truth.””
Marcus reached for my hand.
And this time, I let him.
“I’m coming with you.””
I looked at him.
“Victoria said to come alone.””
“I don’t care.””
“Marcus—”
“No.””
His voice softened.
“But I’m not letting you face this by yourself.””
Two hours later, we arrived at Willow Creek Road.
The neighborhood looked smaller than I remembered.
The trees were taller.
The streets were quieter.
But the house was exactly the same.
White paint.
Small porch.
The old oak tree beside the driveway.
My chest tightened.
“I haven’t been here since I was eighteen.””
Marcus looked at me.
“Why?””
I swallowed.
“Because everything ended here.””
We walked toward the front door.
It was unlocked.
That scared me more than a locked door would have.
Marcus noticed.
“Stay behind me.””
I almost smiled.
After everything that happened, that was the first normal thing he had said.
Inside, dust covered the furniture.
But someone had been here recently.
A cup sat on the kitchen counter.
Fresh flowers rested on the table.
Someone had prepared the house.
Someone expected us.
Then a voice came from upstairs.
“I wondered how long it would take you to find the truth.””
My entire body froze.
Marcus looked up.
“Victoria.””
She appeared at the top of the stairs.
Older than the photographs.
Different.
But unmistakably the same woman.
She slowly walked down.
Her eyes moved to me.
Not with hatred.
With sadness.
“I’m sorry.””
I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re the one sending the messages?””
She nodded.
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Victoria stopped a few feet away.
“Because your mother asked me to.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
Marcus frowned.
“My mother?””
Victoria looked at him.
“No.””
Then she looked at me.
“Your mother.””
I felt dizzy.
“My mother died twelve years ago.””
Victoria nodded.
“I know.””
“Then how could she ask you?””
Victoria reached into her bag.
She pulled out a small envelope.
The same type of envelope Isabella had brought to my hospital room.
My breath caught.
“I kept this because I promised her I would.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“What is inside?””
Victoria looked at me.
“The truth.””
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A young woman.
My mother.
Standing beside another person.
A man.
A man I had never seen before.
But Marcus recognized him instantly.
His face went pale.
“No…”
I looked at him.
“Who is that?””
He stared at the photograph.
“That’s my father.””
The room went silent.
I couldn’t breathe.
“What?””
Victoria whispered:
“Your mother and his father were together before Marcus was born.””
The photograph slipped from my fingers.
“No.””
Marcus looked devastated.
“This can’t be real.””
Victoria nodded.
“It is.””
I looked between them.
Trying to understand.
Trying to force my mind to accept something impossible.
“Are you saying…”
My voice broke.
“Marcus and I…”
Victoria finished the sentence.
“Yes.””
Her eyes filled with sadness.
“You were never strangers.””
A terrible silence filled the room.
Then Victoria said the words that changed everything.
“You are not just Marcus’s wife.””
May you like
She looked at me.
“You are his sister.””
