Arthur walked fast down the wide dark hallway toward his study.
Clara followed behind him with slow and hesitant footsteps.
Young Leo walked right beside her with big curious eyes.
Leo: My mom had blue eyes just like yours.
Clara looked down at the boy and felt her heart beat fast.
Clara: I do not know who my mother was, little master.
Leo: Do not call me that, just call me Leo.
They entered the large room filled with tall mahogany bookshelves.
Arthur stood by a cold glass window looking out at the rain.
He turned around slowly with a pale and tired face.
Arthur: Take off that bracelet and hand it to me.
Clara unhooked the tiny metal clasp and held it out.
Arthur took the silver piece and held it under his desk lamp.
He pointed a shaky finger at the tiny carved star mark.
Arthur: My late wife Elena had this made for our first anniversary.
Clara: Millions of rings look similar across the country, sir.
Arthur: This stone has a small crack on the bottom left edge.
Clara stared at him because she knew that small flaw was real.
Clara: How could you know about that tiny scratch?
Arthur: Because I dropped it on the floor the night I proposed.
Arthur sat down heavily in his deep leather armchair.
He covered his face with both of his wide palms.
Arthur: Ten years ago, my wife went into labor early during a storm.
Clara: What happened to her that night?
Arthur: She was rushed to Oak Valley Hospital during a blackouts.
Clara: Was the baby saved?
Arthur: The doctor told me my wife and daughter both passed away.
Clara felt a cold shiver run down her whole spine.
Clara: The orphanage record says I was dropped off that same night.
Arthur: What date was written on your paper?
Clara: November fourteenth, twenty fourteen.
Arthur gasped loudly and slammed his hand on the desk.
Arthur: That was the exact night my life fell completely apart.
Leo: Dad, does this mean Clara is my real sister?
Arthur: I do not know yet, son, but I will find out.
Clara looked at the framed picture sitting on his wooden desk.
A beautiful woman with dark hair and blue eyes smiled back.
The face in the frame looked exactly like her own reflection.
Clara: I have a picture inside my old wooden box at home.
Arthur: What picture are you talking about?
Clara: A picture of a woman holding this same sapphire ring.