The Second Property

The deed was hidden in plain sight, disguised as a mundane land transfer from 1992. Sarah stared at the document on the floor, the timeline Maya had constructed branching out like a disease. *T.E.J. Holdings to E.V. Real Estate.* The purchase price was listed as ten dollars.

A nominal fee. A gift.

"Why would he give her property in Vermont?" Maya asked, tracing the line from the deed to the birth certificate of *Chloe Vance*. "If he was already paying her monthly?"

"It wasn't a gift," Sarah said, picking up the deed. "It was a down payment. He bought the silence. But he also bought the location."

She looked at the address. *1442 High Ridge Road, Stowe.*

It wasn't just a house. It was five acres of woodland, secluded, private. The kind of place you could hide a pregnancy. Or a child.

"I thought the cabin was the only property," Caleb said from the cot, where Robert was tending to his split lip. "I thought 404 Gold Brook was the only one."

"So did I," Sarah said. "But look at the date on this deed. September 1992."

"That's when she sold me," Caleb said. "To Argus."

"Exactly," Sarah said. "She sold you in September. She bought this house in September. She used the money from Argus to buy a place to stash Chloe."

Chloe flinched. "Stash me?"

"You were four years old," Sarah said gently. "The real Julian had been dead for two years. Caleb had just been sold. She needed somewhere to keep you until she decided if you were useful."

"She kept me there until I was six," Chloe said, her voice hollow. "Then she moved me to boarding school. She said it was because I was special. Because I was too smart for public school."

"She moved you because you were starting to look like her," Sarah said. "And like Julian. If anyone saw you together, the timeline would collapse."

Sarah looked at the deed again. There was a restrictive covenant attached to the property. A clause that prevented the sale or transfer of the land without the express written consent of *The Guardian*.

"Who is the Guardian?" Maya asked.

"It's not a person," Sarah said. "It's a trust. The same trust that owns the island."

"The Hawthorne Preservation Trust," Robert said. "Your father set it up."

"But Elena is listed as the co-owner on the deed," Sarah said. "Which means she had control."

"She had leverage," Caleb corrected. "But Dad had the title."

Sarah flipped the page. There was a second document stapled to the back of the deed. A quitclaim, signed by Elena Vance in 2005. The year she married Thomas Jenkins.

She had signed the Vermont property back to him.

"Why would she give it back?" Maya asked. "If it was her leverage?"

"Because she didn't need it anymore," Sarah said. "She had the ring. She had the marriage license. She had access to the main estate."

"And she had me," Caleb said. "By 2005, I was back. I was 'Julian'. The family was complete. The lie was solid."

But Sarah noticed something else on the quitclaim. A small, handwritten note in the margin, in Elena's script.

*The house is yours, Thomas. But the basement stays mine.*

Sarah looked up at Chloe. "The basement. Do you remember the basement?"

Chloe went pale. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the heat of the woodstove.

"I wasn't allowed down there," she whispered. "Mom said it was dangerous. She said there were... things. Medical things."

"What kind of things?" Sarah asked.

"Machines," Chloe said. "Beeping. And cold air. It always smelled like winter down there. Even in July."

Sarah looked at the medical file for the real Julian. The bone marrow transplant. The geneticist in Zurich.

*Regarding the compatibility of the second subject.*

"It wasn't just a house," Sarah said, the realization settling in her stomach like a stone. "It was a lab. Or a storage facility."

"Storage for what?" Maya asked.

"For samples," Sarah said. "Blood. Tissue. DNA. She kept everything. Just in case the replacement failed."

Just in case Caleb got sick. Or rebelled. Or remembered.

"She kept a backup of the backup," Caleb said, his voice hard.

"We have to go there," Sarah said. "To High Ridge Road. If there are samples, if there's equipment... that's physical evidence. DNA evidence that proves the timeline."

"It's been twenty years," Robert said. "She would have cleared it out."

"She signed the quitclaim in 2005," Sarah said. "But she kept the basement. The note says it stays hers."

"And she never sells anything," Chloe added. "She hoards."

Sarah looked at the map on the laptop screen. The signal from the boat was getting closer. Elena was coming.

"We can't go to Vermont," Robert said. "Not with her on our tail."

"We don't have to go," Sarah said. "We just have to make her think we're going."

She picked up the Nokia. The screen was dark, but she plugged it back into the solar charger. It chirped. 3%.

"What are you doing?" Maya asked.

"I'm sending a message," Sarah said. "To *E*."

She typed quickly, her thumbs remembering the old T9 rhythm.

*I found the basement, Elena. I know what you kept in the freezer.*

She hit send.

The phone buzzed immediately with a reply.

*You're lying.*

Sarah smiled, a cold, humorless expression.

*Am I? Ask Chloe about the cold air.*

She threw the phone to Robert. "Take the boat. Go north. Make sure she tracks the signal."

"What about you?" Robert asked.

"We're going south," Sarah said. "To the estate. While she's chasing ghosts in Vermont, we're going to break into the one place she thinks is safe."

"The wine cellar?" Maya guessed.

"No," Sarah said. "The nursery."