“Sir, this boy lived with me in the orphanage until he was fourteen,” the maid whispered. Her words stunned the millionaire, for the child in the portrait looked exactly like his older brother who had disappeared many years earlier.

---

Chapter 1: Whispers in the Library

The December snowstorm raged outside the thick stone walls of Blackwood Manor, transforming this isolated castle into a cold oasis in the New York pine forest.

In his spacious study, where the scent of old paper and expensive Cognac mingled, Arthur Blackwood sat motionless. At 70, he was one of the richest men in America, the tycoon of the Blackwood steel empire. But his wealth could not fill the emptiness in his gray eyes.

His gaze was fixed on the oil portrait hanging above the fireplace.

The painting depicted a boy of about 12 years old, with golden hair, bright blue eyes, and a radiant yet melancholic smile. It was William, Arthur’s twin brother. William had disappeared on a stormy night 58 years ago. The police concluded he had slipped and fallen off a cliff off the Newport coast. His body was never found.

Arthur had spent his life living his brother’s life, but also his life haunted by that disappearance.

“Sir, here is your tea.”

A gentle voice pulled Arthur out of his thoughts. It was Elena, the new maid hired the week before. The young woman, about 24, had chestnut brown hair and large, round eyes, always keeping her head down when speaking.

Elena placed the tea tray on the table. When she looked up, her eyes inadvertently fell upon William’s portrait.

She froze. Her hand, pouring tea, trembled slightly, spilling a few drops of hot water onto the saucer.

Arthur frowned. “Is something wrong, Elena?”

Elena hastily wiped away the spilled water with a napkin. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just… this painting.”

“That’s my brother,” Arthur said, his voice low. “He’s been missing for a long time.”

Elena looked at the painting again, her delicate eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She hesitated, as if struggling with whether to speak or not.

“Sir…” she said softly, her voice trembling. “This boy lived with me in the orphanage until he was fourteen.”

Arthur dropped his pipe. Embers fell onto the expensive Persian rug, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He jumped up, lunging to grab Elena by the shoulders.

“What did you say?” Arthur roared. “Are you insane? William disappeared in 1965! How old are you? Twenty? How could you have lived with him?”

Elena recoiled in fear. “I… I don’t know 1965. But I swear, sir. The boy in the painting… his name is Liam. We grew up together at the St. Jude orphanage in Pennsylvania ten years ago. He looks exactly like the boy in the painting. From his hair, his eyes, to…”

She pointed to the painting.

“…up to the small crescent-shaped scar just below his left ear.”

Arthur spun around to look at the painting. It was true, William had a small scar there – a result of a bicycle accident. The detail was so small that the artist had only sketched it superficially, and it would be difficult for anyone to notice unless they looked very closely.

How could a young girl know about “Liam”—a perfect replica of William—living in an orphanage in the 21st century?

Chapter 2: The Criminal Investigation

That night, Arthur couldn’t sleep. He called his most elite private detective team.

“Find me all the information about the St. Jude orphanage in Pennsylvania. And find a child named Liam who lived there about 10-15 years ago.”

Three days later, the file was placed on Arthur’s desk.

St. Jude was a dilapidated orphanage, closed five years ago due to a child abuse scandal. But the file on “Liam Doe” (the name given to the unnamed child) remained.

Attached to the file was an old, worn-out ID photo.

Arthur picked up the photo, his hands trembling.

The photo showed a 12-year-old boy. He didn’t just “look” like William. He was William. That face, those eyes, even the scar under his ear. It was as if William had time-traveled from 1965 to 2010.

But that was biologically impossible. Unless…

Unless William wasn’t dead. Unless William was still alive, and Liam was William’s son, or grandson.

A chill ran down Arthur’s spine.

If William was alive, or had descendants, then Arthur’s claim to the Blackwood empire – which he had held exclusively for the past 50 years – would be in jeopardy. According to his father’s will, the estate would be divided equally between the two brothers, or their direct descendants.

Arthur recalled that fateful night on the cliff. He, in a childish fit of jealousy because William was always more favored by their parents, had pushed his brother. He had seen William fall into the pitch-black sea. He thought William was dead.

Could William have survived? Had he lost his memory? Had he lived another life and fathered Liam?

Arthur called Elena into the room.

“Girl,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm but authoritative. “That boy Liam…where is he now?”

Elena bowed her head, her voice choked with emotion. “He…he’s dead, sir. At fourteen. In a fire at the orphanage. He died saving me.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. A vile feeling of relief crept into his heart. Dead. The threat was gone.

“But,” Elena continued, looking up at him with teary eyes, “before he died, Liam gave me this. He…”

“He said this is the only thing he’s had since he was abandoned at the orphanage gates.”

Elena pulled a small object from her apron pocket and placed it on the table.

It was a solid gold pocket watch. Engraved on the lid was the Blackwood family crest and the inscription: “To William, on his 10th birthday. With love, Father.”

Arthur was speechless.

This was the watch William had worn the night he disappeared. Arthur had searched for it for 58 years to dispose of the evidence (fearing his fingerprints might be on it from the fight), but to no avail.

Now, it lay on his desk, gleaming and cold.

This proved William had truly survived the fall. He had lived, had children, and his bloodline – Liam – had kept this watch.

“What do you want?” Arthur asked, his voice sharp. “You came here as a servant not by chance, did you?” “You know who I am. You want to blackmail me with this watch?”

Elena shook her head. She straightened up. The maid’s subservient demeanor vanished.

“I don’t need your money, Arthur,” she said. “I came here to return the object to its owner. And to ask you a question.”

“What question?”

“Why is there a picture of you in this watch?”

Chapter 3: The Twist in the Watch

Arthur frowned. “My picture?”

He picked up the watch, flipping open the lid. Inside, framed in a tiny glass pane, was a faded black-and-white photograph.

It was a picture of a young man, about 20 years old, smiling brightly next to a beautiful pregnant woman.

The man was Arthur in his youth.

But the woman… Arthur didn’t recognize her.

“This is Liam’s mother,” Elena said. “She died giving birth to Liam.” She is homeless. She said the baby’s father was a wealthy man named Blackwood, who had abandoned her.

Arthur staggered. His head was spinning.

“No… it can’t be…” he stammered. “I never…”

And then, a deeply buried memory suddenly flooded back.

When Arthur was 20, in a drunken rage following his father’s death, he had a fleeting affair with a waitress at a suburban bar. He dumped her shortly afterward, leaving her a sum of money and William’s pocket watch (which he had hidden after killing his brother and later used) as “separation money.” He never knew she was pregnant.

The truth struck Arthur like a sledgehammer.

Liam wasn’t his nephew. Liam was his son.

The child in William’s portrait that haunted him… wasn’t the ghost of his dead brother. But because of the genetic inheritance. The Blackwood lineage was too strong. William and Arthur were identical twins. Arthur’s son would naturally look exactly like William (and exactly like Arthur) as a child.

Arthur killed his brother out of jealousy.

And then, he abandoned his own son (Liam) to an orphanage.

That son died in a fire at the age of 14, alone and impoverished, while Arthur lived in luxury without an heir.

Arthur slumped into his chair, clutching his watch, sobbing uncontrollably. Karma. This was the cruelest punishment. He had killed his brother to take everything, and in the end, his own blood had to suffer the consequences of his actions.

“You abandoned your son,” Elena said, her voice cold. “Liam waited for his father to come and pick him up every day.” “He died with this watch in his hand.”

“I don’t know… I swear I don’t know…” Arthur groaned. “I’ll do anything to atone. I’ll set up a charity… I’ll…”

“It’s too late,” Elena interrupted.

She walked to Arthur’s desk. She picked up a sharp silver utility knife.

Arthur looked up, horrified. “What are you going to do?”

Elena didn’t attack him. She took the knife and made a decisive cut on her arm. Blood flowed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Elena smiled. A strange smile, both pained and satisfied.

“I lied to you about something, Arthur,” Elena whispered.

“What?”

“Liam didn’t die in the fire.”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. “He… he’s alive?”

“Liam was badly burned. He lost his face. He lost his voice. But he’s alive.” He’s had ten reconstructive surgeries. He’s had to take hormones to change his voice. He’s had to live under a different name.

Elena looked straight into Arthur’s eyes. Her hazel brown eyes suddenly seemed frighteningly familiar.

“Liam can’t be here,” she said. “Because… Liam is me.”

Chapter 4: The Naked Truth

Arthur gasped. He looked at the beautiful young woman before him.

“No… you’re a woman…”

“I’m a transgender woman, Arthur,” Elena—or Liam—said. “After the fire, I realized I didn’t want to live the life of the abandoned boy Liam anymore. I used the meager insurance money from the orphanage to have surgery and start over. I buried the name Liam.”

“But I never forgot the father who abandoned me. I spent ten years searching for him. Not to ask for money.” But to see the face of the man who left it behind.

“This watch.”

Arthur looked at his daughter—or rather, his child. He saw resilience, intelligence, and pain in her eyes.

“Elena… my child…”

“Don’t call me child,” Elena recoiled. “I came here only to tell you the truth. To let you know that the Blackwood blood you proudly protected, the blood you used to kill your brother to claim… it has ended with me. I will not bear children. This family will end with your death and mine.”

Arthur trembled as he reached out his hand. “I’m sorry. I will leave everything to you. This mansion, the company…”

“I don’t need it,” Elena threw her blood-stained handkerchief onto the table. “I have my own career. I am an architect, Arthur. I build houses for others, unlike you, who only know how to destroy.”

Elena turned and walked towards the door.

“Wait!” Arthur called after her, desperately. “Don’t go!” “I’m all alone!”

Elena stopped at the study door. She turned, looking at William’s portrait above the fireplace, then at her elderly, lonely father in the large room.

“You’re not alone, Arthur,” she said. “You have your ghosts.” “Live with them.”

Elena walked out of Blackwood Manor, disappearing into the snowstorm.

Chapter Conclusion

The next morning, the butler found Arthur Blackwood dead in his study. He sat in his armchair, clutching his pocket watch, his eyes fixed on a portrait of his twin brother.

The doctor concluded he died of heart failure. But the servants whispered that he died of a ruptured heart.

In his will, Arthur left his entire multi-billion dollar fortune to a charity supporting orphaned children and the LGBTQ+ community, with a young architect named Elena Vance appointed as its administrator.

No one knew who Elena Vance was, or what her relationship was to the late billionaire.

Only Elena knew. She used the money to rebuild St. Jude Children’s Home, transforming it into a true home.

She never set foot in Blackwood Manor again. She left it abandoned, turning it into a museum of secrets. And regret, where the portrait of a 12-year-old boy still smiles sadly, guarding the eternal sleep of his sinful younger brother.