The envelope sat on Alina's vanity table, untouched but heavy with implication. She hadn't mentioned it to Leonard yet. Something about the photo—the woman's face, the haunting familiarity—unsettled her to her core. Her first instinct was to shield Lily. Her second was to find out who sent it.
But most of all, it opened a door she had long bolted shut.
That night, as the wind howled beyond the tall windows of the master bedroom, Alina stared at the ceiling, sleep far from reach. Beside her, Leonard lay still, though she could tell from his breathing that he was awake too.
"Do you believe in déjà vu?" she asked suddenly.
Leonard turned slightly. "Only when I'm with you."
She let out a quiet breath. "I saw a woman today. In a photo. She looked like me… but wasn't. It was eerie. Like a ghost."
Leonard propped himself on one elbow. "Where did you see it?"
Alina hesitated, then reached into her drawer and handed him the envelope.
He examined the image carefully. The woman in the photograph had softer features than Alina, but the resemblance was undeniable. She was holding a baby swaddled in a lavender blanket—Lily's favorite color.
"Who sent this?"
"No return address. No note. Just… this," she said, flipping the photo to reveal the word written on the back. Soon.
Leonard's jaw tightened. "It's a threat."
"Or a warning."
The next morning, Leonard mobilized his private security team. Cameras were checked. Mail scanned. Lily was assigned a discreet bodyguard disguised as a chauffeur. Alina insisted on dropping her daughter off at school herself, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy.
But as she kissed Lily goodbye at the school gates, her gaze lingered on a woman across the street—a woman in a tan coat, holding a bouquet of white lilies, staring directly at her.
Their eyes met. The woman turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Alina stood frozen, her heart pounding.
Back at the office, Leonard met with Matthew and their head of cybersecurity.
"This isn't just paparazzi or a bitter ex anymore," Matthew said grimly, scanning the enlarged copy of the photo. "This is calculated. Someone wants her afraid."
Leonard leaned forward. "What about facial recognition?"
"We ran it. No match in any public records or social databases. Either this woman doesn't exist… or someone's gone to great lengths to erase her."
"Then we dig deeper."
Matthew hesitated. "Leo, if you go down this road, you might find things about Alina's past she hasn't told you."
Leonard's expression darkened. "She's my wife. I need to know who's coming for her."
Later that afternoon, Alina sat alone in the manor's greenhouse, watching rain slide down the glass panes. The plants had always been her sanctuary—growing things helped her feel rooted, safe.
But not today.
Today, every rustle of leaves felt like a whisper. Every shadow, a pair of eyes.
Her phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
"He doesn't know who you really are. But I do."
Alina gripped the phone tightly, her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers hovered over the screen, then began typing.
Who are you?
The reply came instantly.
"Your sister."
Her world tilted.
No. That couldn't be. She didn't have a sister. She was raised in a foster system. Bounced between homes. Alone for as long as she could remember.
But something inside her stirred. A buried memory, foggy and incomplete—a lullaby, a soft voice calling her Lina, a pair of arms torn from her during a rainstorm.
Could it be real?
That night, Leonard returned home with a folder marked CONFIDENTIAL and a tension in his eyes Alina hadn't seen in weeks.
"We need to talk," he said.
Alina nodded. "So do I."
He opened the folder and slid it across the table.
"Your name is Alina Hart," he began, "but you were born Alina Rossi. Your biological parents were involved in a high-profile embezzlement scandal twenty-five years ago. They disappeared. The authorities believed they either fled the country or were eliminated."
Alina's hands trembled. "I never knew their names. The orphanage only said I was found abandoned at a train station."
Leonard continued, "The woman in the photo? Her facial structure, bone density, and retinal pattern suggest a 92% match with yours. If she's real… she could be your sister. Or a clone."
"That's not possible…"
"She goes by the name Selena Voss. No official records. But she's appeared in underground surveillance tied to a European cybercrime ring."
Alina staggered back, disbelief warring with fear. "Why now? Why come for me?"
"Because someone wants to use you. Or destroy you."
Alina looked up, eyes fierce despite the panic in her chest. "Then let them try. I won't run."
Leonard took her hand. "You won't have to."
The following week was a whirlwind. Leonard tightened security even further, while Alina discreetly investigated the name Selena Voss. The deeper she looked, the more fragments surfaced: a hospital birth record erased from archives. A photograph from a foster home in Milan—two girls holding hands, identical curls, with the names Alina and Selena scribbled on the back.
She'd forgotten that memory. Suppressed it.
But now it clawed its way back.
She had a sister. And she had lost her.
One evening, a package arrived at the manor, hand-delivered.
Inside: a VHS tape, dusty and worn. A note: Play me if you want the truth.
Against Leonard's warnings, Alina insisted on watching it.
The tape flickered to life. Grainy footage showed two young girls in a brightly lit nursery. A woman stood in the background—tall, with auburn hair and cold eyes.
Then came the voice.
"You've been separated. For your own good. One day, she'll forget. And we'll make her forget everything. The other one… she's not ready yet."
The screen cut to black.
Alina stared at the blank screen, a thousand thoughts roaring in her head.
Leonard gripped her shoulder. "We'll find her. But first, we protect Lily."
Alina nodded, tears streaming silently.
Because now, this wasn't just about her past.
It was about her future.