Damien paced his study, the names Bella and Janice Moore echoing in his mind. He had tasked Marco with uncovering everything he could about the two, but so far, their pasts remained stubbornly elusive. The Rossi family, in particular, presented a formidable challenge. They were one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country, their name synonymous with power and prestige. Their history was meticulously documented, a carefully curated narrative of philanthropy and success. But beneath the polished surface, Damien sensed a darkness, a carefully guarded secret. He remembered Mrs. Shaw's words, "They also suffered a tragedy that same year." When he asked about the tragedy, Mrs. Shaw had said, "I believe half of the family died. As to how, I can't tell you with certainty." But there was nothing about the tragedy when Marco went to check. Also, there's Janice Moore. Could she be related to Sarah and William Walker somehow? Damien had his suspicions about the relationship between Janice Moore and William Walker. Could she be his first wife? Is Sarah their child? But Janice never had any children... This case was too complicated. These are just my guesses, he thought. It's better to wait for Marco to uncover more clues.
A day later, Marco came to Damien's study while he was reading some documents.
"There's nothing, boss," Marco reported, his voice laced with frustration. "The Rossi family, they seem to be... untouchable. Their records are impeccable, their reputation spotless. It's like trying to grasp smoke. No traces of the tragedy Mrs. Shaw mentioned."
Damien's jaw tightened. He knew the Rossi family was somehow connected to Sarah, to Isabella. But how? And why the secrecy? He couldn't shake the feeling that they were deliberately hiding something, something that could be the key to unlocking Sarah's past.
"But I have discovered more from Laura Reynolds," Marco said, "the woman that worked at the orphanage at the same time Janice Moore was there. She told me she had met Janice's husband once. She said he was handsome but poorly dressed, he had oil stains on his shirt. Janice later told her he works hard to make ends meet. But Janice on the other hand, she was always dressed as a second-generation rich lady, so the whole relationship between them felt off. She didn't pry much because she had her own struggles at the time and had no time for gossip."
"Oil stains on his shirt..." Damien mused, his eyes narrowing. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Didn't William Walker work as a mechanic at his car repair shop?" Marco asked, the question hanging in the air.
"Exactly!" Damien's voice held a note of triumph. "But the question is, who is Janice Moore?"
"I'll ask around," Marco replied, already turning to leave.
Sam Wellington would also go to visit Sarah at the hospital often, drawn to her quiet strength and gentle demeanour. He enjoyed their conversations, finding a rare sense of peace in her presence. Like Damien, he was trying to uncover the truth about her past, but he, too, found a wall of silence blocking his progress. Every lead hit a dead end, making it impossible to uncover anything concrete. The things that he had found were not enough to confirm his suspicion.
A vivid memory suddenly played in Sam's mind, a scene from a long-forgotten past.
"I want to go back to my momma," a little girl cried, her voice trembling.
Sam, a boy himself, knelt to comfort her. "You should stay here and wait, maybe your mama will come to find you soon."
"My mama is hurt, auntie said I must behave and wait, but I'm scared," the little girl said, her small face etched with worry.
"Don't worry," Sam said, a fierce protectiveness rising in him. "I will protect you until she comes."
"You promise?" the little girl whispered, her eyes wide with hope.
"I promise." He took her hand in his, and a small smile touched her lips. They walked toward a red swing set.
Sam was almost certain that Sarah was the little girl he had met in the orphanage. The vivid memory of their conversation, the red swing, and her big, sad brown eyes. He had a memory of a scar below her left eyebrow, and ever since meeting Sarah, he was sure it was the same scar. He would find a way to verify his suspicion without her knowledge, without alarming her.
In prison, Caroline was in a separate cell from Chloe. They would only see each other in a mutual room where all the prisoners gathered to talk. Chloe was all bruised, and her tooth was missing. Caroline, upon seeing her, started crying. Other prisoners gathered around them, and one said to Caroline, "How do you like this gift from Mr. Sterling?" Caroline knew she had no other choice. She would have to call Damien to tell him all she knew about Sarah's past.
Later that day, Marco received a call from a guard. He told Damien about Caroline's request. Damien smiled and said to Marco, "To prison."
Caroline sat down in the prison's visitation room and grabbed the phone. Damien, already on the other side, held his receiver up, his face an impassive mask. Caroline's voice cracked with fear and desperation.
"Please don't harm my daughter," she pleaded, her eyes welling with tears. "Chloe is hurt."
Damien's voice was firm, a cold blade cutting through her plea. "Sarah."
The single word was all it took. Caroline visibly flinched. "I'll tell you everything I know."
"I met William two and a half months before he divorced his wife," Caroline began, her voice gaining a panicked rhythm. "I liked him, and on the day of their divorce, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, but he warned me that he'd never have a romantic relationship with me. I didn't care. I had nowhere else to go and a four-year-old daughter, Chloe, with me. Her father was a terrible man; he would beat us severely every time he got drunk, so I took Chloe and ran away from him. William was kind enough to offer us a place to stay and a new life, even if it was just a facade for the outside world."
Damien listened with barely concealed impatience. "I want to know about Sarah, not your sob story."
"Trust me, this leads to it," Caroline insisted. "Two months after I married William, he brought a little girl home. She was bruised and didn't speak for a whole year. He told me she was the daughter he had with his first wife, and her name would be Sarah Walker from now on."
"So Sarah is William's biological daughter?" Damien asked.
"That's the thing; she wasn't," Caroline revealed. "I found out when William was in the hospital and needed a blood transfusion. He was O-negative, and she was B-positive. I saw it on some medical reports that he later burned in our backyard, and I also learned that he and his ex-wife had the same blood type and that he couldn't have children. I knew then that Sarah wasn't his biological child, but I wasn't sure until later when I confirmed it. I confronted him, and he told me that when the orphanage burned down, he found the little girl and brought her home. I believed him. I had no reason not to."
"That's why you always targeted Sarah and treated her with such harshness?" Damien's voice held a sharp edge of accusation.
"I'm not proud of it," Caroline said, tears streaming down her face. "She was just an orphan, but he treated her like she was a princess, and that made Chloe jealous and it made me angry."
"His ex-wife?" Damien asked, his focus now solely on the details. "Do you know her name?"
"Yes, I remember seeing it on those medical records," Caroline said. "Her name was Janice Walker."
Damien's suspicions were now confirmed. Janice Walker and Janice Moore were the same woman. He now knew for a fact that Sarah was the little Bella, and that her past was much more complicated than anyone could have imagined.
Damien returned to the hospital two days later, his heart heavy with a mix of excitement and unease. The doctor had confirmed that Sarah could be discharged in a week, and he had a place for her to stay—a home he'd bought just for her. But the conversation hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd hoped.
"I've bought a house for you," he'd told her. "Mrs. Blue, the nanny who looked after me, will be there to take care of you."
Sarah's face, which had lit up at the news of her discharge, fell slightly. "Will you be living there too?" she'd asked, her voice small and hopeful.
Damien had said nothing, the words he wanted to speak—I want to be with you, always—trapped behind the weight of his other life. He saw the confusion in her eyes. Sarah didn't understand the nature of their relationship. They were not a couple, yet they were more than friends. Their unspoken feelings, the shared kisses, and his overprotective nature created a space of ambiguity that he couldn't explain.
"I want to go back to my house," she said, a flicker of independence in her voice. "."
"You should be around me," Damien insisted, the thought of her returning to that house, to the memories of the Walkers and all the trauma they inflicted, unbearable.
"I need to think about it," she replied, feeling like a burden to him. It would be better to return to her own life, to not complicate his.