Chapter 12 - The Half-Sister
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The rusted iron box sat on the kitchen island like a ticking bomb. It was coated in years of dirt and grime, sealed tightly with a heavy brass padlock.
"We should call the police and let them open it," Mariana said, pacing nervously across the tiled floor.
"If we call the police, they take it as evidence," Mateo argued, wiping dirt from his hands with a towel.
"And if it has something to do with Elias, he'll just lie his way out of it again. I need to see what he’s so desperate to hide."
Mateo didn't wait for permission. He went to the tool shed, grabbed a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters, and returned to the kitchen. With a loud grunt of effort, he clamped the cutters down onto the brass padlock. It snapped with a sharp crack.
He pulled the lock away and slowly lifted the heavy iron lid.
Inside the box, carefully wrapped in layers of thick, waterproof plastic, were stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
"Oh my god," Mariana breathed, staring at the small fortune. "It has to be thousands of dollars. It's stolen money."
"There's something else," Mateo said.
He reached past the money and pulled out a small, yellowed envelope. He opened the flap and slid a folded piece of paper onto the counter. It was an official state document.
Mateo’s eyes scanned the text, his brow furrowing in deep confusion.
"It's a birth certificate," he said softly.
"Whose?" Mariana asked, stepping closer.
Mateo’s voice shook as he read the names printed on the faded paper.
"Father: Elias Vance. Mother: Sarah Jenkins."
"That was your mother's maiden name," Mariana realized, her eyes widening in horror.
"The child's name is Chloe," Mateo whispered, looking up at Mariana with tears suddenly stinging his eyes. "Date of birth... ten years ago."
"Mateo..." Mariana started, reaching out for him.
"I have a sister," Mateo said, the revelation hitting him like a physical blow.
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"Elias and my mother had another child before she died. A sister I never knew existed. Where is she, Mariana? Where is she?!"
Before Mariana could answer, the sanctuary's landline phone began to ring, the shrill sound echoing violently through the quiet kitchen.
