Sara's Origins
A monstrous, absurd thought invaded my mind: Could Sara's mother be... Sara rarely spoke of her family. I knew her mother died young of illness; she was raised by her grandmother, who also died years ago. She'd once mentioned her mother's name... What was it? Frantically, I recalled. Sorting old things, she'd mentioned a blurred childhood photo with her mother's name... Liz? Liz...? My heart plummeted. Liz... Elizabeth? Elizabeth's nickname? Cold sweat beaded my temple.
The Crushing Truth
Attic dust choked me, but I was paralyzed. The photo and notebook burned in my hands. Young Elizabeth and Sara—startlingly alike. Father's chaotic notes: Mother pregnant, child possibly not his ("Says not mine"), then her disappearance ("Vanished"). Sara's mother died young, name possibly "Liz" (nickname for Elizabeth), raised by grandmother... The pieces locked together like cold chains, pointing to an unbearable yet undeniable conclusion—Sara was likely the child Elizabeth bore to another man! We were... half-siblings sharing the same mother?!
Father's Lost Love
Of course! It all made sense! Father's stunned expression at first seeing Sara—confronted by the face of his lost love, his vanished wife! His tortured, complex stares—seeing Elizabeth's ghost! His vehement opposition to our marriage, insisting she was "not good enough"—fearing the truth exposed! His warning, "You'll be in pain"! His drunken cry, "She's my—"—meaning "She's my wife's daughter"?! His secrecy about meeting Sara... They were desperately hiding this horrific secret!
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