Chapter 6: The Handkerchief Test

With the two kids present, the atmosphere grew livelier. Derek cared for my sister and looked after the kids—he truly seemed like a good man. But my sister’s behavior was just too strange.

After the meal, I quietly took out a handkerchief, pretending to wipe my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the others about to leave, so I spoke up.

“Oh, sis, look—this handkerchief is the one you gave me years ago. You’d only finished half the embroidery when I took it away. This time, you have to help me finish the other half.”

She took the handkerchief and studied the pattern carefully.

“Is this... a rose?”

A rose? That’s what she saw? I clenched my hand, anger rising. I stared hard at the gentle, beautiful woman before me and asked, my voice sharp:

“You’re not my sister. Who are you? Why are you pretending to be her?”

My words echoed in the quiet room, the Southern sunlight slanting in, catching dust motes in the air. For a long moment, no one moved, and the only sound was the slow ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall. The air seemed to freeze. My sister—or whoever she was—looked up, her eyes suddenly dark and unfathomable. "Why would you say something like that, Taylor?" she whispered, voice not quite her own.

My heart hammered in my chest, bracing for the truth I'd come all this way to find.