Chapter 5 - The Stranger With Vincent's Face|
The missing dockworker's name was Jonah Reed.
He was forty-six, married, and responsible for maintaining the loading equipment at the South Terminal.
According to Desmond, Jonah had reported irregularities in several shipment records before vanishing from his overnight shift.
His truck remained parked beside the terminal fence.
His phone had been discovered beneath a conveyor belt.
And the security footage from the hour before his disappearance had somehow been erased.
Camila learned most of this by overhearing fragments of conversations while preparing the upstairs guest rooms.
She didn't want to listen.
But after Julian Voss's unsettling remarks about her mother, she no longer believed ignorance could guarantee safety.
That afternoon, Vincent asked Desmond to meet him in the study.
Camila was carrying folded towels past the doorway when she heard an unfamiliar name.
“Adrien contacted me again,” Vincent said.
Desmond replied, “Then he knows about Jonah.”
“He knows more than he's telling me.”
“Do you trust him?”
A long silence followed.
Finally, Vincent answered, “I don't know whether either of us remembers how.”
Camila moved away before they noticed her.
The name Adrien remained in her thoughts throughout the afternoon.
Adrien Mercer, the young man presumed dead after the harbor fire.
Adrien, the name Vincent had shouted only inside a private room.
She was almost certain he was the stranger Mia had seen.
But why would a man believed dead for twenty-five years suddenly return to a millionaire's estate?
At sunset, Camila went to the kitchen garden to collect herbs for Mrs. Alves.
She had left Mia safely inside with the cook.
The narrow walkway behind the greenhouse was empty.
As she cut a handful of rosemary, a voice spoke from the other side of the stone wall.
“You're Camila Dwarte.”
She spun around.
A man stood beyond the half-open service gate.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing an old charcoal coat.
Silver touched his dark hair at the temples.
A pale scar crossed his left eyebrow.
Camila stared at him.
Up close, the resemblance to Vincent was astonishing.
Their faces were nearly identical.
But the stranger's eyes were tired, and his hands showed the rough marks of years spent doing physical work.
He lifted both palms to show that he held nothing.
“I'm not here to frighten you.”
“You've already done that.”
“I apologize.”
“You spoke to my daughter.”
His expression softened.
“She was standing by the lower garden fence with a stuffed animal.”
“That doesn't give you permission to approach her.”
“You're right.”
He lowered his eyes.
“She asked whether I was the man from the big house.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“That I wasn't.”
Camila gripped the rosemary tightly.
“Who are you?”
“Adrien.”
“Adrien Mercer?”
He looked surprised.
“You've done some research.”
“The newspaper says you're dead.”
A bitter smile crossed his face.
“The newspaper wasn't the first institution to make that mistake.”
Camila stepped back toward the greenhouse.
“If you have business with Mr. Curado, speak to him.”
“I've tried.”
“Then try harder.”
He glanced toward the mansion.
“Someone inside that house is working very hard to keep me from reaching him.”
“Who?”
“I can't prove it yet.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
Adrien accepted the question without offense.
“You shouldn't believe a stranger simply because he looks like someone important.”
He reached into his coat slowly.
Camila immediately moved backward.
Adrien stopped.
“It's only a photograph.”
He placed a small envelope on the stone wall and stepped away.
“You can look after I've gone.”
From the mansion, a distant bell announced the evening meal.
Adrien glanced toward the sound.
“Tell your little girl I'm sorry I startled her mother.”
“Stay away from Mia.”
“I will.”
His expression tightened.
“And keep her away from Julian Voss.”
Camila's breath caught.
“Why?”
Adrien looked toward the security cameras mounted on the greenhouse.
“Because Jonah Reed trusted that man, and now nobody knows where Jonah is.”
He disappeared through the gate before she could question him further.
Camila waited until the walkway was empty before approaching the envelope.
Inside was an old photograph of two young boys standing beneath a flowering apple tree.
They were dressed in identical sweaters.
One held a toy sailboat.
The other held a silver compass.
Their faces were so alike that Camila couldn't tell them apart.
On the back, faded handwriting identified them.
Vincent and Adrien, age six.
Below their names was another sentence.
Whatever they tell you, never let them divide you.
It was signed simply, Mother.
Camila returned to the mansion with the photograph hidden inside her apron pocket.
She found Vincent in the entrance hall, preparing to leave for the harbor.
“Mr. Curado.”
He turned.
“I met Adrien.”
The name stopped him completely.
“Where?”
“Behind the greenhouse.”
Vincent glanced toward the western doors.
“Was Mia with you?”
“No.”
Relief crossed his face.
“He gave me something.”
Camila showed him the photograph.
Vincent stared at it for several seconds.
Then he sat down on the nearest bench as though his legs had suddenly lost their strength.
“My mother kept this,” he whispered.
“She made us promise we'd never throw it away.”
Camila felt the truth settle into place.
“He's your brother.”
Vincent nodded.
“My twin brother.”
“Why does everyone think he's dead?”
Vincent looked toward the darkening windows.
“Because twenty-five years ago, someone made certain I would believe he was.”
At that exact moment, Julian Voss stepped into the entrance hall.
May you like
His gaze moved from Vincent's face to the photograph in Camila's hand.
For the first time since she had met him, Julian looked genuinely afraid.
