She clicked on the link, which took her to a news story from the Concord Chronicle, May 21, 1998. In the photograph were the same faces she had seen just moments ago, only older. Ethan and Jack as teenagers. The photograph was of them smiling in a school photo. She scrolled down farther to see the charred remains of the house.
Jack’s childhood home.
The article said that the house had been burned to the ground, although the source of the fire was uncertain. Both parents’ bodies were found inside. The boys, however, were missing. A massive search was under way, but so far the authorities hadn’t had any leads.
She went back to Google and typed in Missing twins, Jack and Gabe Lexington. There were a few relevant hits, stating only that the case went cold. The boys were never found.
Until now. Sydney stared at the pashmina scarf lying on the table in front of her. What was Alice’s connection to all this? Did she help them escape, or was she just the keeper of their secret?
Sydney looked up across the room and saw a digital clock next to the bed. It was 3:40; she had been in the room for more than thirty minutes—she knew she was pushing her luck. She pulled out her phone and quickly took photos of all the paperwork that was in the envelope. Next, she carefully repacked all the papers and put them back into the envelope, sealing the clasp once again.
Just as she was packing away the pashmina into Alice’s travel bag, she heard a voice in the hallway. Sydney jumped up, shoved the shawl back into Alice’s bag, and ran to the balcony door. The voice outside grew louder.
She fumbled with the large glass sliding door, but it wouldn’t budge. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for the lock. She heard the voice stop and the beep of the door key. Sydney gave up on the sliding door and dashed a few feet across the room and into the closet. She had just enough time to close the closet door before the room’s front door opened.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Please deliver it to room 2271. Thank you.” She heard Alice’s voice bounce across the walls as she stepped into the room.
Sydney was standing inside a small closet as wooden hangers dangled just in front of her face and brushed against her shoulders. She was afraid if she made one small move, she would send the entire set of hangers crashing to the floor. Although her heart was pounding, she tried to focus on taking quiet breaths in and out of her nose.
She could hear Alice moving around the room, unpacking her clothes. Sydney’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. The thought of Alice opening the closet to find her standing there was paralyzing. If Alice was willing to kill someone to protect her secrets, what would she do to Sydney?
She heard the swoosh of the bathroom door open, followed by the shower coming on. Yes! If Alice took a shower, that would give her just enough time to slip out the door unnoticed. She felt herself relax a bit, breathing out some of her anxiety. Just as she did this, her shoulder knocked one of the wooden hangers loose and it banged against another hanger creating a domino effect, just as she had feared. They clattered to the floor, banging against every surface in the small space as they went.
Shit!
“Hello?” said Alice suddenly. “Is someone there?”
Sydney began to panic. She could hear Alice walking around the room, pulling on curtains and opening doors. Sydney couldn’t decide which was worse, Alice opening the door to find her, or just coming out on her own.
She took a deep breath and chose the latter.
The closet door slid open, and Sydney stepped outside. Alice was facing the front door, her back to Sydney. She wheeled around to look at her. She was already in a white bathrobe, her long brown hair streaked with gray as it hung down past her shoulders. Sydney noticed she had a black object in her hand and extended it toward her in a quick motion. It took a moment for Sydney’s brain to register what it was.
Alice was holding a gun. And it was pointed directly at her.
“Alice, wait! It’s me, Sydney!”
Twenty
Sydney
As a fashion influencer, Sydney’s job had required her to travel all over the world, sometimes to places where she had found herself in what she had considered danger. There was a dark alley in Prague where she thought she was being followed, or the time she ended up in the slums of Rio de Janeiro. But never is there a moment so intense or dangerous as when there is a gun pointed directly at you. For Sydney, this was a first.
“Sydney?” said Alice. She faltered slightly but kept the the gun aimed at her. “What are you doing in my closet?”
Sydney’s mind screamed for her to turn and run, but she stayed put. “I…um…I just needed to talk to you, privately.”
Alice cocked her head, considering this. After several terrifying moments, she lowered the gun. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have lowered my gun as soon as I saw you.” Her eyes went to the floor. “I’ve been a little on edge lately.”
“I know the feeling,” Sydney said, finally allowing herself to exhale. “Would you mind if we sat down for a moment?”
“Sure,” said Alice. She tightened the robe around her waist, and the women took a seat across from each other. Alice placed the gun on the table between them. “What can I do for you, Sydney?”
Sydney considered her options. Did she just come out and ask her if she killed Lizzy? Did she ask her why she was hiding the twins’ identities? Did she play a cat-and-mouse game of questions, or just go for the truth? As the options ran across her mind like ticker tape, Alice watched her, waiting silently.
“I know about the twins’ true identities,” she said finally. “And the house fire.”
She expected Alice to looked shocked or gasp. But the woman kept her green eyes on Sydney, barely moving. She finally took a deep breath and let her shoulders drop.
“I’ve been carrying that secret for a long time,” she said.
Sydney felt the pain and the anger that surrounded Jack’s death resurface. “Why didn’t Jack tell me about his real name? Or how his parents died?”
“It happened a long time ago,” Alice said, looking past Sydney. “When the boys were just teenagers. I worked as a school counselor at their high school in New Hampshire. I had spoken with them on several occasions and knew there was trouble at home. Domestic violence. Verbal abuse. It broke my heart,” she said. Sydney could see her eyes become slightly glassy. “So, when they came to me, after the fire, I helped them escape. Start a new life. Finish school. They were finally free of a difficult childhood.”
“Jack never told me,” she said as the pain burned in her throat.
“I know, Sydney. He wanted to, and he may have one day, if…” She didn’t finish the sentence. Sydney didn’t need her to, she had been living with what-if’s ever since he died. But he’s gone. She shifted her thoughts back to the more urgent reason for her visit. Lizzy.
“So is that what Lizzy found out? That Ethan wasn’t who he said he was? And that’s why she was murdered?”
The look of shock now registered on Alice’s face. Her eyes widened for a moment and then relaxed. “Sydney, I had nothing to do with Lizzy’s death, if that’s what your implying.”
“Well, something happened to her. I know she uncovered whatever was in your secret cabinet. Was it the birth certificates I found?”