Chapter Twenty-Three
I feel my heart pounding as I take off running through the campsite, my feet slapping against the dirt path.
The only sounds I can hear are my own ragged breaths and the crickets chirping in the distance.
I keep my head down and my eyes trained on the path before me, not wanting to trip on any rocks or roots.
Maria’s words, warning me about a possible killer lurking in the darkness, echo in my mind.
I curse her for saying that stupid joke.
I haven’t been able to shake off the thought.
The memory of Silvana sneaking up on me makes me shudder, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I have to find Sofia.
As I run, I feel the cool night air brushing against my skin and causing my hair to whip around me.
I can hear the rustling of leaves as the wind picks up, and I feel a chill run down my spine.
I feel exposed and vulnerable, like a small animal scurrying through the woods.
Or when, as a kid, I would run up the stairs, convinced a monster was chasing me. The memory makes my heart race.
But despite my fear, I keep running. I can’t let anything stand in the way of finding Sofia and telling her the truth, and she won’t have time to see me or hear me out tomorrow.
Plus, I don’t want to wait that long. She needs to know now.
As I approach her cabin, I can see the glow of a lamp shining through the window, and I know that Sofia is inside, still awake.
Her cabin has been transformed into a wonderland of delicate decorations that flutter in the soft breeze.
The porch is draped with fairy lights that twinkle like stars, casting a warm glow on the wooden planks below.
The door is adorned with a garland of lush greenery, woven with delicate white flowers that seemed to burst with life against the dark wood.
I can’t help but marvel at the intricate details.
The windows are framed with gauzy white curtains that billow in the wind, and the porch is dotted with whimsical lanterns that sway with each gust of air.
It is as if the cabin has been transformed into a magical realm of wonder and enchantment.
I slow down as I approach the door, trying to catch my breath and gather my thoughts.
I take a deep breath and raise my hand to knock, but I hesitate.
What if Sofia doesn’t want to see me? I wouldn’t blame her.
What if she doesn’t believe me? I try to shake the doubts from my mind and knock on the door.
There is a moment of silence before I hear Sofia’s voice from the other side.
“Who is it?” Sofia says, mid-laugh, as if she is in the middle of watching a funny video on her phone.
“It’s me, Sof.”
There’s another moment of silence. I swallow, feeling how dry my throat has become from the chilly air.
“I’m not going to open the door,” Sofia says, her voice muffled through the wood. “Just leave, Isa.”
I feel a wave of disappointment wash over me. Sofia doesn’t even want to talk to me. But I know that I can’t give up now. So I take another deep breath and try to sound as confident as possible.
“Sofia, please,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “There’s something important I need to tell you.”
There is a long pause, and I hold my breath, waiting for a response. Then, finally, I jump as I hear the lock on the door click, and the door slowly opens. Sofia stands in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of suspicion on her face, her eyes dark and guarded.
“What do you want?” she asks, her tone cold.
“Sofia, please. I’m so sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to cause you or Rosita or… Valentina, any harm. That wasn’t my intention for coming here. I came to find out the truth. I didn’t have the answer when you asked me earlier, but I finally do. I know what it is.”
“It’s too late for that, Isa. I don’t care anymore. You’ve done enough. Please, just leave,” she says.
I feel a lump in my throat, and tears prick my eyes. I can’t leave, not without telling Sofia the truth.
“Listen, I know I fucked up. There are lots of things about this week that I regret. But I have waited ten years to see you again, and if this is the last time I see you, I need to say what I came here to say. You can ignore it, pretend I don’t exist, and move on with your life if you want.
But let me say what I need to say. We both need this. ”
“Isa, you were always one of my favorite cousins, but it’s all too much. I thought you were someone who cared about me and my wedding, not someone who was spending the entire week trying to sabotage it.”
“That’s just it, Sofia. I’m not your cousin.”
“Oh, so what? You’re disowning me already?” Sofia scoffs.
“No, Sofia. I’m not your cousin because I’m actually your sister. We have the same father.”
Sofia’s eyes widen in shock, and I can see the emotions flicker across her face: disbelief, confusion, and finally, anger.
“What are you talking about?” Sofia demands, her voice rising in pitch.
I take a step back, feeling the weight of Sofia’s anger. I knew this would be hard, but I have to keep going. I have to make Sofia understand.
“Roberto, he was in love with Rosita,” I say, my voice trembling.
“He had you and your mother. Then he slept with my mother and they got pregnant. She beat Rosita to the punch at telling Abuelita, knowing she would insist they’d get married.
She wanted to steal Roberto away from Rosita.
That’s why we were born at the same time. ”
Sofia’s face contorts in anger and hurt. “How could she do that?” she spits. “How could he have another family and just leave us like that?”
“I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” I say, my voice still shaky.
“He might have felt trapped. Maybe he didn’t know how to choose between them, or maybe he was scared to stand up for what he really wanted.
I know it’s easy to be mad at him—believe me, I’ve been mad at him too—but I don’t think it was all manipulation.
I think he made choices, Sofia. Bad ones, maybe. But they were his.”
I pull out his journal.
“He gave me this journal, and so many letters and notes lead to the truth of how much he loved your mother, Sof. How much regret he had for not fighting for the one he truly loved.”
“Why would your mother do this?” she says with tears falling down her cheeks.
“I don’t really know. I think she just wanted to take something from Rosita because she always felt like she got the short end of the stick in her life. It was selfish, greedy, and not at all the type of person I am. I just want you to know that.”
Sofia stares at the wood floor, lost in thought.
“Why couldn’t he tell us himself?”
“I don’t know,” I say softly. “Fear, mostly. My mother was a good manipulator; you know how obsessed she is with her image. I also doubt Rosita would have said anything to prevent unnecessary public drama that could affect her work. But there is one thing I absolutely do know. He loved both of us. He loved all of us. And he would want us to be sisters, to be there for each other.”
Sofia doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and I fear that I have made things worse. But then, to my surprise, Sofia opens the door a little wider and invites me inside.
The inside of the cabin is even more breathtaking.
The walls are draped with sheer curtains, the delicate fabric catching the breeze through the open window and billowing like waves.
I see touches of Sofia’s vibrant personality everywhere, from the bright flowers that adorn the tables to the playful fairy lights that dangle from the ceiling.
My eyes are drawn to the magnificent display of flowers adorning the room.
It is as if a magical garden has sprouted up inside the cabin, with blooms of every shape and shade of white bursting forth in a riot of beauty.
I can smell the sweet scent of roses and lilies mingling with the heady aroma of fresh pine, which reminds me of the forest around the campsite.
Every detail has been carefully planned and executed, down to the smallest detail. As I look around, I’m in complete awe. I can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the thought of Sofia’s wedding tomorrow and the magical celebration that awaits her.
Sofia sits on the bed, looking shocked and confused, as if she’s still digesting the news. I sit down next to her.
“Where’s Luciano?”
“He’s out by the lake having drinks with the groomsmen. The last night, ya know.”
“I see,” I say, looking around the room.
Sofia sighs.
“So what now?”
“Do you want me to show you the puzzle pieces in his journal? It might help,” I suggest.
She doesn’t say anything but nods her head slowly. I pull out the journal and put it in between our laps.
“The first clue Valentina and I found was this recipe. It’s for rice pudding, and he noted it was ‘her favorite.’ We weren’t sure who he was talking about, because my mother hates rice pudding.”
“Is that why you and Valentina made rice pudding the first night?”
“Exactly,” I smile. “But Maritza, Rosita, Abuelita, and you all said it was your favorite. Now we had suspects.”
I go through each clue with Sofia, explaining the details Valentina and I discovered and the ones I found on my own—and, finally, the last one.
“I can’t believe you both did this all week. Now I know why I could never find you two.” She laughs.
“There is one more clue. The one that helped solidify all my doubts. The one that answers the big question.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the ripped photograph of Roberto and me.
“You see the back? It says ‘two daughters,’ but part of it is ripped off. I’m unsure what happened to the other side, but I think you were in it.”
Sofia gasps. “Oh my God.”
I watch as she gets up and walks over to her dresser. She pulls out a blue velvet storage box and slowly opens it.
“Look at this.” She walks back over and sits down, holding a ripped photograph.