The car raced through the countryside for two hours before Alexander finally slowed down. They had switched roads three times and taken several detours to make sure no one was following them.
"Are they gone?"
Sophia kept looking in the side mirror, expecting to see dark cars behind them.
"For now. But they'll find us again soon enough."
Alexander pulled into a small gas station and parked behind the building, out of sight from the main road.
"We need to figure out what those coordinates on your necklace mean. But first, I want to visit your orphanage."
"Why? What could they tell us that we don't already know?"
"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything."
Alexander looked at her seriously.
"Isabella's letter said she wasn't born Isabella Ashford. If you really are her daughter, then your records might have been changed too."
Sophia touched the necklace at her throat. The silver heart felt heavier now that she knew what it might contain.
"The orphanage is three hours from here. St. Catherine's Home for Children."
"Good. That gives us time to talk."
Alexander pulled back onto the road, driving more slowly now.
"Tell me everything you remember about growing up there."
Sophia closed her eyes and let the memories come back.
"I was brought there when I was very young. Maybe three or four years old. I don't remember anything before that."
"Who brought you?"
"A woman. I only have flashes of memory about her. Dark hair, kind eyes. She cried when she left me."
"Did she say anything?"
"The sisters told me later that she said my name was Sophia and that my parents were dead. Nothing else."
Alexander was quiet for a moment.
"What about your time at the orphanage? Anything unusual?"
Sophia thought back to those long years at St. Catherine's.
"It was a good place. The sisters were kind. But I always felt different from the other children."
"Different how?"
"I had nightmares. Terrible dreams about dark water and screaming. The sisters said it was trauma from losing my parents, but the dreams were so vivid."
"What happened in the dreams?"
"I was always running. Someone was chasing me. And there was water everywhere, like a river or lake. I could hear someone calling my name, but it wasn't Sophia."
Alexander's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
"What name were they calling?"
"I could never quite hear it. But it started with an 'I' sound."
"Isabella."
The word hung in the air between them.
"You think I was dreaming about my mother's death."
"Maybe. Or maybe you witnessed something you were too young to understand."
They drove in silence for a while. Sophia watched the countryside roll past and tried to remember more details from her childhood.
"There was one sister who always paid special attention to me. Sister Margaret. She was older than the others, and she seemed to know things she wouldn't talk about."
"Is she still alive?"
"She died two years ago. But before she died, she said something strange to me."
Sophia turned to look at Alexander.
"I visited her in the hospital during her last days. She was very sick, barely conscious most of the time. But on the last day, she grabbed my hand and said something I didn't understand."
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'The water remembers everything. Don't let them find the silver heart.' Then she died."
Alexander pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped.
"She knew about the necklace."
"But how? I never showed it to anyone at the orphanage. I kept it hidden under my clothes."
"Maybe she was the one who hid it with you in the first place."
Alexander stared out the windshield, thinking.
"We need to see your records at St. Catherine's. If someone changed your identity, there might be traces left behind."
They reached the orphanage just as the sun was setting. St. Catherine's Home for Children sat on a hill overlooking a small town. It was a large, old building made of gray stone, with tall windows and a bell tower.
Sophia felt a mix of sadness and nostalgia as they drove up the long driveway. This place had been her home for fifteen years. The sisters here had raised her, taught her, and loved her.
But now she wondered how much they had really known about her past.
"I called ahead while you were sleeping. Sister Anne is expecting us."
Alexander parked in front of the main entrance.
"She's the current Mother Superior. She was just a young nun when you lived here, but she might remember details."
Sister Anne met them at the door. She was a small, gentle woman in her fifties, wearing the traditional black and white habit of her order.
"Sophia, my dear child. How wonderful to see you again."
She hugged Sophia warmly, then looked curiously at Alexander.
"This is my husband, Alexander Blackwood."
Sister Anne's eyes widened slightly at the name, but she smiled politely.
"Please, come in. I've prepared tea in the parlor."
The inside of St. Catherine's looked exactly as Sophia remembered. Wooden floors worn smooth by generations of children, religious paintings on the walls, and the faint smell of candles and old books.
They sat in a small parlor near the Mother Superior's office. Sister Anne poured tea with steady hands.
"I was so surprised to get your call, Mr. Blackwood. Sophia was one of our most beloved children. We always wondered what became of her after she left us."
"Sister Anne, we're hoping you might help us with some information about Sophia's arrival here."
"Of course. Though I must admit, I was quite young then. Sister Margaret would have known more, but God rest her soul, she passed away two years ago."
"Yes, I heard. I'm sorry for your loss."
Sophia leaned forward.
"Sister Anne, do you remember anything unusual about the day I was brought here?"
The nun thought for a moment.
"I remember it was raining. A terrible storm. The woman who brought you was very upset. She could barely speak through her tears."
"Did she give you any documents? Birth certificate, anything like that?"
"She had a small bag with some clothes and a few papers. Sister Margaret took care of all the paperwork back then."
"Would those papers still be here?"
"They should be in our records room. Would you like me to check?"
"Please."
Sister Anne left them alone in the parlor. Sophia walked to the window and looked out at the garden where she used to play.
"I had my first communion in the chapel here. Sister Margaret helped me pick out my dress."
"She must have cared about you very much."
"She did. Sometimes I felt like she was watching over me more than the other children. Like she had a special responsibility for me."
Sister Anne returned carrying a manila folder.
"Here's your file, dear. Though I must say, it's quite thin."
She handed the folder to Sophia, who opened it carefully.
Inside were just a few documents. A handwritten intake form, a medical record from her first checkup, and what appeared to be a birth certificate.
But something was wrong.
"This birth certificate... the ink looks different."
Alexander took a closer look.
"Some of the information has been written over. Look at the birth date."
Sophia held the document up to the light. She could see faint traces of earlier writing underneath.
"The original date was crossed out and changed. And look at the parents' names."
Where her parents' names should have been, there were just blank spaces. But under the blanks, faint pencil marks were still visible.
"Can you see what it says underneath?"
Alexander squinted at the paper.
"The first name looks like it might start with 'I'. Isabella, maybe?"
Sister Anne looked puzzled.
"That's very strange. Sister Margaret always kept meticulous records. I can't imagine why anything would be altered."
"Sister Anne, did Sister Margaret ever mention anything unusual about Sophia's case? Anything that seemed odd or secretive?"
The nun hesitated.
"Well... there was one thing. Sister Margaret kept a private journal. She wrote in it every day for forty years. When she died, I found it among her personal effects."
"Is it still here?"
"Yes. It's in the library. I haven't read through all of it yet, but I remember seeing Sophia's name mentioned several times."
"Could we see it?"
Sister Anne looked uncertain.
"I suppose it would be alright. Sister Margaret is gone, and if it helps Sophia understand her past..."
She led them to the library, a large room lined with books and religious texts. From a locked drawer in the librarian's desk, she retrieved a worn leather journal.
"This covers the years when Sophia lived here. I'll leave you alone to read it."
After Sister Anne left, Sophia and Alexander sat at a reading table and opened the journal. The pages were filled with Sister Margaret's neat handwriting, recording daily events at the orphanage.
They found the first entry about Sophia's arrival:
*October 15th - A woman brought a young child today. The girl is perhaps 3 or 4 years old. The woman was terrified, constantly looking over her shoulder. She begged us to keep the child safe and to tell no one she was here. She paid a substantial donation for the girl's care.*
*The child has no proper documentation. The woman gave me a birth certificate, but it appears to be falsified. I have made the decision to create new records to protect the girl's identity.*
*I pray we are doing the right thing.*
Sophia's hands were shaking as she read.
"She knew my identity was fake from the beginning."
They continued reading:
*October 30th - The girl has been having nightmares. She cries out in her sleep, calling for "Mama Isabella." I fear she witnessed something terrible.*
*November 12th - I've been watching the newspapers. There are reports of a young woman who disappeared from the wealthy Ashford family. The description matches the woman who brought our little Sophia.*
*November 20th - I've made a terrible discovery. The woman in the newspapers - Isabella Ashford - was found dead in the river today. The police are calling it suicide, but I know better. Someone killed her.*
*I must protect this child. She may be the only witness to what really happened.*
Alexander looked up from the journal.
"Sister Margaret knew your mother was murdered. And she knew you saw it happen."
They kept reading:
*December 1st - I've hidden something the woman left with the child. A silver necklace with a heart pendant. She said it was important, that bad people would come looking for it. I've sewn it into the lining of the girl's winter coat.*
*I've decided to call the child Sophia. It means wisdom. She will need all the wisdom she can find in this world.*
Sophia touched the necklace at her throat.
"Sister Margaret hid it in my coat. That's why I've had it all these years without knowing its real significance."
The final entry about her was from many years later:
*June 10th - Sophia is leaving us today. She's eighteen now, a beautiful young woman. But I fear her troubles are not over. There have been men asking questions about her in town. Men who don't belong here.*
*I've told her nothing about her past. Perhaps that was wrong, but I wanted to give her a chance at a normal life.*
*May God forgive me if I've made the wrong choice.*
Sophia closed the journal with tears in her eyes.
"She spent twenty years protecting me. And she never told me the truth."
"She was trying to keep you safe."
Alexander stood up and walked to the window.
"But now those same people have found you. And they're not going to give up."
"What do we do now?"
"We follow the coordinates on your necklace. Whatever Isabella hid, we need to find it before they do."
Sister Anne returned to the library.
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Sophia hugged the old nun.
"Sister Anne, if anyone comes here asking about me, please don't tell them anything."
"Of course, dear. But why? What's wrong?"
"There are people who want to hurt me because of something that happened long ago. Please, just be careful."
As they walked back to the car, Sophia felt like she was saying goodbye to her childhood forever. The orphanage had been her safe place, but now she knew even that safety had been built on secrets and lies.
"Where do the coordinates lead?"
Alexander checked his phone.
"To a location about fifty miles from here. Near the river where Isabella's body was found."
"You think that's where she hid whatever these people are looking for?"
"Only one way to find out."
They drove away from St. Catherine's as darkness fell. In the rearview mirror, Sophia watched the lights of the orphanage disappear behind them.
She was no longer the lost girl who had grown up there. She was Isabella's daughter, heir to a twenty-year-old mystery that had already cost one woman her life.
And now it might cost Sophia hers too.