Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN ROOM 407
The estate overlooked the Bay of Kotor.
White stone terraces descended toward the water.
Cypress trees lined the drive.
The mountains rose behind the house like dark walls.
It was beautiful.
And somehow, deeply unsettling.
An elderly housekeeper named Milena welcomed us.
She looked at Adrian with affection.
Then turned toward me.
Her smile vanished.
For one strange moment, she stared at my face.
Then whispered something in Serbian.
Adrian stiffened.
“What did you say?”
Milena lowered her eyes.
“Nothing, gospodine.”
I looked between them.
“What did she say?”
Adrian's expression was unreadable.
“She said you look familiar.”
Milena turned away too quickly.
That evening, I couldn't sleep.
Adrian had given me a bedroom on the fourth floor.
Room 407.
Separate from his.
Of course.
I wandered into the hallway.
At the far end stood a portrait of a dark-haired woman.
She wore a pale blue dress.
Her eyes were gray.
Her expression was sad.
I stopped.
Because I knew that face.
I'd seen it in the only photograph I possessed of my mother.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
I stepped closer.
A brass plaque beneath the painting read:
SOFIA VUKOVIĆ — 1984
My breath stopped.
Vuković.
Not Hart.
I reached for the frame.
Then heard footsteps.
Milena stood behind me.
Her face was pale.
“You shouldn't be here,” she whispered.
I turned.
“Who is this woman?”
Milena looked at the portrait.
Then at me.
Her eyes filled.
“Your mother.”
I stared.
“That's impossible.”
Milena shook her head.
“No, child.”
May you like
Her voice broke.
“What's impossible is that they told you she died.”
