Alexander clutched his chest. “What are you saying?”

Marcus set the folder on the table. “I’m saying the young woman buried in your family plot under your daughter’s name was never Valerie.”

And in that moment Alexander understood that he hadn’t only been robbed of a living daughter. He had buried a complete stranger under a monstrous lie.

Chapter 5 — The Chapel

Alexander didn’t sleep. He spent the night at the hotel window, the medical records spread across the table, sick with shame. For two years he had wept in front of a marble tomb.

For two years he had let Beatrice stage memorial galas and services for a daughter who was breathing under a stolen name. And another young woman had been buried under Valerie’s name, her true identity erased before anyone learned who she was.

At 6:43 a.m., Marcus’s phone chimed. It was from Maya. St. Anthony’s Chapel, Greenwich Village. 8:00 a.m. He comes in alone. You wait outside.