Chapter Seven: The Woman Wearing My Face
1151 Words
The coffee cup hit the floor with a sharp crash.
Hot coffee spread across the tiles, but Isabella didn't notice.
She couldn't look away from the television.
The woman smiling confidently beside Alexander Kingsley had her face.
The same chestnut hair.
The same bright green eyes.
The same graceful smile.
Even the tiny beauty mark beneath her left ear was there.
It was like looking into a mirror.
The reporter's voice echoed through the diner.
"Tonight's charity gala, hosted by billionaire businessman Alexander Kingsley and his wife, Isabella Kingsley, is expected to attract some of the country's most influential guests..."
Isabella's breathing became uneven.
"No..."
She whispered the word as if saying it louder would make it true.
"That's impossible."
Damian quickly picked up the remote control from the counter and muted the television.
The other customers returned to their conversations, unaware that one of the biggest mysteries in the country had just walked into their morning.
Damian leaned toward Isabella.
"Can you stand?"
She didn't answer.
Her eyes remained fixed on the frozen image on the screen.
The woman looked... happy.
Comfortable.
As if she truly belonged beside Alexander.
A painful question settled into Isabella's heart.
If that woman had taken my place...
Had Emily accepted her too?
The thought hurt more than the memory of being buried alive.
Damian gently touched her shoulder.
"We need to leave."
Isabella finally looked at him.
"She has my face."
"I know."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"There has to be an explanation."
"There is."
His voice was calm.
"We just haven't found it yet."
---
Ten minutes later, they sat inside Damian's SUV parked beneath a row of tall oak trees overlooking the city.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence was heavy.
Finally, Isabella broke it.
"I want to go home."
Damian shook his head immediately.
"It's too dangerous."
"I don't care."
"My daughter is there."
"You don't even know if she's there."
"I have to see her."
Damian looked out the windshield.
"The mansion will be full of security."
"I don't care."
"They'll recognize you."
"Good."
"They'll kill you."
Those words hung between them.
For the first time, Isabella noticed genuine fear in Damian's eyes.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
"I've already died once," she said quietly.
"I'm not letting another woman raise my daughter."
Damian closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened them again, he sighed.
"I was hoping you'd say something else."
"You knew I wouldn't."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"No."
"I suppose I did."
---
By late afternoon, they reached a hill overlooking Kingsley Manor.
The estate was breathtaking.
A magnificent white mansion stood proudly behind towering iron gates.
Perfectly trimmed gardens stretched across the grounds.
Luxury cars arrived one after another.
Men in expensive suits.
Women wearing dazzling evening gowns.
The charity gala had already begun.
Music drifted across the evening air.
Reporters crowded the entrance, cameras flashing as guests walked along the red carpet.
Isabella stared silently.
"It was my home."
Damian nodded.
"Yes."
She could almost remember walking those gardens.
Almost remember holding Emily's hand.
Almost.
But every memory slipped away before she could grasp it.
Damian handed her a pair of binoculars.
"Look."
She lifted them slowly.
Alexander stood at the entrance greeting guests.
He looked exactly as he had in the funeral photograph.
Elegant.
Confident.
Impossible to read.
Then—
The woman stepped beside him.
Isabella felt her stomach tighten.
The resemblance was terrifying.
The impostor smiled naturally as she slipped her arm through Alexander's.
Reporters called out.
"Mrs. Kingsley!"
She turned gracefully toward the cameras.
"I hope everyone enjoys tonight's event," she said with perfect confidence.
Even her voice...
It sounded almost identical.
Isabella lowered the binoculars.
"She's practiced."
"What?"
"She knows everything about me."
Damian remained thoughtful.
"Or..."
"She doesn't have to pretend."
Isabella looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
He hesitated.
"I've been investigating missing-person cases for twelve years."
"I've never seen anything like this."
"You think she's my twin?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"I don't know."
"But whoever planned this..."
"They planned every detail."
---
Inside the mansion...
Emily wandered away from the ballroom unnoticed.
She carried her white teddy bear close to her chest.
The music downstairs was too loud.
The smiling guests made her uncomfortable.
She quietly climbed the grand staircase toward the second floor.
Past family portraits.
Past closed doors.
Until she stopped outside one room.
The nursery.
It had remained untouched for weeks.
She slowly opened the door.
Moonlight poured through the window.
Everything was exactly as she remembered.
Her mother's rocking chair.
Her favorite storybooks.
A music box on the shelf.
Emily walked inside.
She sat in the rocking chair and hugged her teddy bear.
"I miss you, Mommy," she whispered.
A tear rolled down her cheek.
Then...
She heard footsteps behind her.
Emily turned.
The woman everyone called her mother stood in the doorway.
She smiled warmly.
"There you are."
Emily forced a smile.
"I was just looking."
The woman's eyes swept across the room.
"You know I don't like you coming in here."
Emily lowered her head.
"I'm sorry."
The woman walked closer.
She gently brushed Emily's hair away from her face.
"You've been thinking about her again."
Emily nodded.
"I had another dream."
"What kind of dream?"
Emily looked up.
"I dreamed Mommy came home."
The woman's smile froze.
Only for a second.
Then it returned.
"Dreams aren't real."
Emily looked at her carefully.
"They felt real."
The woman knelt beside her.
"Your mother is gone."
"No."
Emily whispered the word so softly it was almost lost.
"I don't think she is."
For the first time...
A flicker of irritation crossed the woman's face.
She stood immediately.
"Come downstairs."
"The guests are waiting."
As they walked toward the door, Emily glanced back at the nursery one last time.
She couldn't explain it.
But somehow...
She felt as though someone was watching her.
---
Outside the estate...
Damian lowered the binoculars.
"We're going in."
Isabella stared at him.
"What?"
"Tonight."
"How?"
"We're not invited."
Damian reached into the back seat and lifted two elegant black garment bags.
"I planned ahead."
He unzipped the first one.
Inside was a stunning midnight-blue evening gown.
The second contained a perfectly tailored black tuxedo.
Isabella looked at him in surprise.
"You expected this?"
Damian smiled faintly.
"I've been preparing for this night for three months."
He handed her the gown.
"By the end of tonight..."
He looked toward the brightly lit mansion.
"...someone's mask is going to fall."
Far away, hidden among the trees surrounding the estate, a man lowered a high-powered camera.
He snapped one final photograph of Damian and Isabella.
Then he picked up his phone.
"They're here," he said quietly.
The voice on the other end asked only one question.
"Does Mr. Kingsley know?"
The man smiled.
"Not yet."
He ended the call and disappeared into the darkness.
- Writer
