"She was standing outside the orphanage. And she was alive."
Aria's words followed me long after she stopped speaking.
I couldn't stop thinking about the photograph, the baptism record, or the mysterious girl who looked like me.
If she was alive three years ago, where was she now?
And why had everyone spent so much time hiding her existence from me?
I folded the baptism record and slipped it into my pocket.
"Where can I find Father Michael?"
Aria shook her head. "Taya, please. Don't do anything reckless."
"I'm not being reckless. I'm asking questions."
"You don't understand what happened the last time someone tried to uncover this secret."
"Esther?"
Aria looked away.
That was all the answer I needed.
I left the storage room before she could stop me.
---
Father Michael was in the chapel, arranging some books on the small table beside the altar.
He looked up when I entered.
"Taya. Is something troubling you?"
I almost laughed.
He had asked me that question countless times throughout my childhood. Every time I had come to him with a problem, he had told me to pray, be patient, and trust that God would make things right.
But what was I supposed to do when the people teaching me to trust were the same people hiding the truth?
"Yes, Father. Something is troubling me."
I placed the baptism record on the table.
His expression changed the moment he saw it.
"Where did you get this?"
"That's not what I asked you."
He glanced towards the chapel doors before picking up the paper.
"Who gave this to you?"
"Sister Catherine."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Of course."
I stepped closer.
"Who was the second child?"
Father Michael said nothing.
"Was she my sister?"
"Taya—"
"Please don't tell me to pray about it. Don't tell me I'm too young to understand. I've lived here my entire life, and everyone acts as if my own childhood is a secret I have no right to uncover."
My voice broke.
"I trusted you, Father."
He lowered the paper.
"And I have tried to protect you."
"From what?"
He looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand.
"From a truth that could destroy the only life you've ever known."
I shook my head.
"You don't get to decide that for me."
For a long moment, he stared at the baptism record.
Then he finally spoke.
"The second child was brought here on the same night as you."
My heart stopped.
"Brought here? You mean she lived in the orphanage too?"
"For a short time."
"What happened to her?"
Father Michael's hands tightened around the paper.
"She was taken away."
"By whom?"
He didn't answer.
I struck the table with my palm.
"Who took her?"
"Someone who believed they were doing the right thing."
"That isn't an answer!"
"No," he admitted quietly. "It isn't."
I stared at him, fighting the urge to cry.
"Did my parents know about her?"
The silence that followed was worse than any answer he could have given.
Finally, Father Michael whispered, "Your parents knew there were two children."
My knees felt weak.
Two children.
Two names.
Two little girls in a photograph.
And a lifetime of unanswered questions.
Before I could speak again, footsteps sounded outside the chapel.
Father Michael immediately folded the baptism record and handed it back to me.
"You must leave."
"I'm not finished!"
"Taya, listen to me. Whatever happens, do not confront Sister Perry about the second child."
"Why?"
His face had gone pale.
"Because she wasn't the only person who wanted that child gone."
The chapel doors opened.
Sister Perry stood in the doorway.
Her eyes moved from Father Michael to me, then settled on the paper in my hand.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then she smiled faintly.
"So," she said, "you finally know there were two of you."
I felt the room tilt around me.
Sister Perry stepped inside and closed the doors.
"But there's something Father Michael hasn't told you, Taya."
She looked straight into my eyes.
"The other child didn't disappear. Someone changed her name."
My mouth went dry.
"Who?"
Sister Perry's smile vanished.
"Ask your sister."