CHAPTER 010
1241 Words
SIENNA'S POV
It had been raining for hours without stopping. The wind hit the windows hard, as if it wanted to get inside. I had some music playing quietly, a playlist Savannah made for me when we were in college. She played me a lot of sad songs and the rest were strange indie tracks she promised I’d like. It never did happen.
I was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, holding my wine glass, ready to go to bed. The knock came next.
It wasn’t a gentle, friendly knock. It was three quick raps, then two more. It caught my attention.
I froze.
I have never seen anyone arrive here so late. After ten o’clock, my building was very quiet. No deliveries. No drunks. Just silence.
I put the glass down and moved quietly to the door. I stood with my fingers close to the deadbolt. My heart began to race as I looked through the peephole.
A man. Soaked all the way through. His face was very pale. Her eyes were wide with darkness. He appeared as if he had been caught in a storm.
I didn’t answer the door.
“What is your name?” I shouted my question into the wood.
He moved forward, holding his hands up as if he was giving up.
“I’m not here to cause you any harm,” he said right away. I want to talk to you. It’s all about Savannah Lively.
I felt my stomach sink. I felt a chill run through my body.
What about her?
He turned around, feeling uneasy. I’m very busy right now. I once knew her mother.
That only made the situation more difficult. Not better.
Yet, there was nothing in his voice that made me think he was dangerous. It sounded like a cry for help. I hesitated. I grabbed my phone just in case I needed it. I was about to press Savannah’s contact when I stopped.
I only opened the door a little bit.
Rain was running down his body. His jacket seemed too light for the cold outside. His skin looked so pale, as if he hadn’t eaten for a long time.
“I’m Sienna,” I whispered. “Talk fast.”
He didn’t move any closer. He just took something out from his coat. A photo.
“Here’s Savannah,” he said, handing it to me.
I picked it up. I felt my fingers shaking.
It was very old. Faded. Still, it is clear enough.
A little girl who looks just like Savannah with her smile. Same large eyes. However, the woman who was holding her wasn’t Patricia. She was not her mother. I had never met that woman before.
“Who is this person?” I asked.
“The woman who brought her up. Before Patricia had her in her care.”
I looked at him.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.” He glanced at the ground. “Still, it’s true.”
I made the door wider. “Get in.”
He entered the house as if he was afraid the rain would drag him outside. I gestured toward the couch. He sat on the edge, letting water drip all around him.
I didn’t pay attention.
“Explain.”
I am Colby. I had a job with Patricia’s father when I was still young. Savannah’s grandfather. When things were not the way they are now. More dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
He rubbed his hands to try and warm himself up. Patricia started a relationship with someone she shouldn’t have. The outcome was not good. Really badly. When Savannah was born, they decided it would be better if she was out of sight for a while.
I felt my heart pounding.
“They hired someone to raise her,” he continued. “Don’t let her be in the public eye. After things settled, Patricia returned her to the family. And acted as if it had never happened.
I was speechless as I stood there. “That’s insane.”
“I know.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Someone is digging up the past. They are almost there in their search. Ethan could have it already.
That name made me so angry I wanted to throw something.
“Ethan?” I repeated.
He nodded. He found someone to work for him. A private one. He has some old records. Paperwork. Even photos. I was the first to find one of the sources. Got these.”
He put his hand back into his coat. I took out a folder. I picked it up. I sat on the couch facing him. Opened it.
I saw names that were unfamiliar to me. Addresses. Birth records. Even a letter from a woman named Rose who said she "couldn’t keep the child anymore."
I turned to the final page.
Another photo. Savannah, who was about six, was sitting between two people she didn’t know. He had the same cheekbones as Savannah. Savannah’s laugh was the woman.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Why are you mentioning this now?” I asked.
If Ethan uses it, it will affect more than just Savannah. It will ruin her life.”
I felt my hands trembling. I dialed her number on my phone.
She responded promptly. “Hey! You okay?”
“Savannah, please sit down,” I said, sounding strange and high.
“What’s happening?”
There is a man in the house. He claims to have known your mom. You were… brought up by someone else. That someone is searching through your past.
Silence.
“Savannah?”
She broke her silence. “Are you really serious about this?”
“Yes. I’m looking at the pictures as I write this.”
I shared all my thoughts with her. About Colby. About Rose. Information about the folder.
More silence.
I didn’t realize, Sienna. Not at all. My mom never shared that information with me.
I trust what you are saying.
Her voice trembled. I have to leave now. I need to have a conversation with her.
“Savannah, wait—”
However, she decided to end the conversation.
Colby stood. I need to get out before anyone discovers me. Don’t delete the folder. She’ll benefit from it.”
He then walked away.
I remained seated for what seemed like a very long time. Just having the folder in my hands.
At that moment, my phone started to vibrate.
Savannah.
“Are you feeling well?” I asked.
She said, “I called my mom and I couldn’t stop crying.” She answered the phone. However, when I mentioned we should talk, the call dropped.
“Cut out?”
It felt like someone had ended it. She didn’t feel alone.
I got to my feet, feeling my heart race.
“Do you believe that Ethan—”
“I’m not sure.”
“Where are you located?”
I am on my way to see her now.
“Be careful.”
She remained silent.
She then said softly, “What if everything I believed about myself was actually false?”
The call was over at that point.
I looked at the phone for a moment. My hands felt like they were made of ice.
Someone was changing the past.
But what if Savannah wasn’t who she believed herself to be—
Who was she, really?
- Writer
