CHAPTER 12 — THE MAN WHO STOLE THE EVIDENCE
CHAPTER 12 — THE MAN WHO STOLE THE EVIDENCE
The girl stood in the doorway.
Barefoot.
Pale.
Silent.
The hospital bracelet around her wrist seemed to glow beneath the emergency lights.
SUBJECT -1.
I couldn't move.
Nobody could.
Daniel stared at her.
Eva stepped backward.
Jonathan raised his weapon.
My mother whispered a single word.
“No.”
The girl smiled.
“You always say that.”
Her voice was soft.
Almost gentle.
But there was something strange about it.
Something familiar.
I looked at her face.
Same eyes.
Same jawline.
Same dark hair.
She looked like me.
Not similar.
Not related.
Like me.
As if someone had taken my reflection and given it a body.
“Who are you?”
She tilted her head.
“You really don't remember?”
“No.”
She smiled sadly.
“Of course you don't.”
My mother stepped forward.
“Stay away from her.”
The girl's expression changed.
“You still don't trust me.”
My mother stopped.
“Because I know what you are.”
The girl laughed.
“You know what they told you I was.”
She looked at me.
“That's different.”
I tightened my grip around Daniel's hand.
“What is your name?”
She hesitated.
Then answered:
“Amelia.”
My heart skipped.
Amelia.
The name on my father's oldest photograph.
The name he'd crossed out.
The name I had always thought belonged to someone who had died before I was born.
I looked at my mother.
“Amelia?”
She started crying.
“I thought you were dead.”
Amelia smiled.
“So did everyone.”
A distant siren sounded.
Then another.
Jonathan looked toward the corridor.
“We need to leave.”
“No.”
I turned to him.
“What?”
“We're exposed.”
“The evidence is out.”
“That makes us more dangerous, not safer.”
Eva nodded.
“He's right.”
I looked at her.
“Who?”
“Whoever stole the evidence.”
I frowned.
“The evidence was uploaded.”
“Most of it.”
She pointed toward the central console.
The screen was still active.
A warning flashed:
ARCHIVE INTEGRITY: 63%
I stared.
“But it said one hundred percent.”
“That was the first archive.”
Eva walked closer.
“There are two.”
Jonathan swore.
“The secondary archive.”
I looked at the empty room.
“Who took it?”
Amelia answered.
“I did.”
Everyone turned.
She held up a small black drive.
My stomach tightened.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father told me to.”
I stared at her.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
She smiled.
“He left instructions.”
“For you?”
“For me.”
She looked at the drive.
“And for you.”
We moved into a smaller security room.
The door locked behind us.
Amelia placed the drive on the table.
Nobody touched it.
My mother stood in the corner.
She wouldn't look at Amelia.
I noticed.
“Mom.”
She remained silent.
“Tell me the truth.”
Her voice trembled.
“I can't.”
“You've said that too many times.”
“I know.”
“You said I was an only child.”
“Yes.”
“You said Amelia died.”
“Yes.”
“You said Daniel was the key.”
“Yes.”
“You said Eva was the fifth subject.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Amelia.
“And now she appears with a Subject -1 bracelet.”
My mother closed her eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
I felt my voice crack.
“Start telling me the truth.”
Silence.
Finally, my mother whispered:
“Amelia was born first.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Then you.”
“Then Eva.”
“Daniel came later.”
I looked at the four of them.
Four children.
Four secrets.
Four pieces of M-17.
“What were we?”
My mother shook her head.
“You were never supposed to be four.”
“What does that mean?”
Amelia answered.
“We were supposed to be one.”
I looked at her.
She continued.
“Edward wanted a perfect heir.”
“He tried to create one child carrying every trait.”
“He failed.”
“So he divided the project.”
My mother whispered:
“Amelia received the first genetic sequence.”
I looked at myself.
“You received the second.”
Eva continued:
“I received the third.”
Daniel looked confused.
“And me?”
Amelia smiled.
“You received the final sequence.”
My stomach turned.
“So together...”
“We complete the original design.”
I stared at the drive.
“The perfect heir.”
Amelia nodded.
Suddenly the door exploded inward.
Everyone dropped.
Gunfire tore through the room.
Jonathan returned fire.
Marcus pulled Daniel behind a desk.
I grabbed Eva.
Amelia disappeared.
My mother screamed.
“Lena!”
A smoke grenade rolled across the floor.
The room filled with white smoke.
Someone grabbed my arm.
I fought.
“Let go!”
A voice whispered:
“It's me.”
Jonathan.
He pulled me toward the emergency exit.
“Move!”
“What about Daniel?”
“Marcus has him.”
“And Eva?”
“She'll follow.”
We ran.
Behind us, gunfire continued.
The corridor was chaos.
Police officers were fighting each other.
Some were trying to reach us.
Others were protecting us.
The city outside had begun receiving the leaked evidence.
Phones were ringing everywhere.
People were shouting.
Sirens filled the streets.
M-17 was no longer a secret.
But the second archive still was.
And someone was willing to kill for it.
We reached the underground garage.
Marcus was waiting.
Daniel was with him.
“Where's Eva?”
He shook his head.
“She's gone.”
My heart dropped.
“What?”
“She went after Amelia.”
“Why?”
Marcus looked toward the corridor.
“They know each other.”
I frowned.
“They've met?”
“Apparently.”
I turned to Jonathan.
“Where did they go?”
He pointed toward a black vehicle.
“The old courthouse.”
“Why there?”
“Because that's where Richard kept his personal files.”
I understood.
“The evidence.”
Jonathan nodded.
“The part he never uploaded.”
I climbed into the vehicle.
“Then that's where we're going.”
The courthouse had been abandoned for years.
Its windows were boarded.
The entrance was covered in graffiti.
But the underground parking area was full.
Black vehicles.
Security vans.
Unmarked police cars.
I looked at Jonathan.
“Richard's people?”
“No.”
“Then whose?”
He didn't answer.
We entered carefully.
The building was silent.
Too silent.
Then we heard a voice.
“Lena.”
I recognized it.
Amelia.
We followed the sound.
It led to the old courtroom.
The doors opened.
Eva was standing in the center.
Amelia was beside her.
And sitting behind the judge's bench was a man.
I stopped.
He looked familiar.
Older.
Gray hair.
Expensive suit.
Calm expression.
I had seen him before.
At my father's funeral.
At Victor's memorial.
At countless Blackwood events.
But I couldn't remember his name.
He smiled.
“Finally.”
Jonathan raised his weapon.
“Don't.”
The man laughed.
“You still think you're protecting her.”
Jonathan froze.
I looked at him.
“Who is he?”
Jonathan lowered his gun.
“He's the reason your father died.”
The man's smile widened.
“That's not entirely fair.”
I stared.
“Who are you?”
He stood.
“My name is Samuel Vale.”
My blood ran cold.
“Vale?”
He smiled.
“Your uncle.”
I couldn't speak.
My mother appeared behind me.
She whispered:
“No.”
Samuel looked at her.
“Hello, Isabella.”
My mother stepped backward.
“You died.”
“Apparently everyone in this family has trouble staying dead.”
Samuel walked toward us.
“You've released the first archive.”
“Yes.”
“You think that makes you victorious.”
“No.”
“Good.”
He looked at Amelia.
“She understands.”
I frowned.
“Understands what?”
“That evidence is meaningless without context.”
He placed a black folder on the table.
“This is the original M-17 archive.”
I stared.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because once you read it, you'll discover something you aren't prepared to accept.”
“I've heard that before.”
“Then you know how this ends.”
He opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
My father.
My mother.
Edward.
Margaret.
Richard.
Victor.
And Samuel.
All standing together.
Years ago.
At the beginning of M-17.
I stared at my father.
“He worked with you.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“He did.”
“For how long?”
“Until the night you were born.”
My mother started crying.
Samuel continued.
“Alexander wasn't trying to destroy M-17.”
“What?”
“He was trying to steal it.”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“That's what everyone says.”
Samuel smiled.
“Because it's true.”
He opened another file.
A document appeared.
PROJECT RELOCATION — SUBJECT -1
My name was listed.
Then Amelia's.
Then Eva's.
Then Daniel's.
Four genetic profiles.
But one column caught my attention.
PURPOSE: EXTRACTION OF ORIGINAL ARCHIVE
I looked at Amelia.
“You stole the evidence because you were designed to.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Who designed you?”
Samuel answered.
“I did.”
I felt sick.
“You're the one behind M-17.”
“No.”
He closed the file.
“I'm the one who tried to escape it.”
I stared at him.
“Then who created it?”
Samuel looked at my mother.
She whispered:
“Your grandfather.”
“Edward.”
“No.”
My mother shook her head.
“His father.”
I froze.
Samuel nodded.
“Thomas Blackwood.”
“Where is he?”
Samuel's expression became grim.
“Dead.”
“Then why are we still doing this?”
“Because he left something behind.”
“What?”
“The original algorithm.”
I didn't understand.
“Algorithm?”
“The system that predicts which children can become heirs.”
“And?”
“It isn't a computer program.”
Samuel looked at the four children.
“It's genetic.”
My stomach tightened.
“The bloodline itself.”
“Yes.”
Amelia stepped forward.
“That's why I stole the evidence.”
Samuel looked at her.
“You shouldn't have.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because he was going to erase us.”
I looked at Samuel.
“Who?”
Amelia answered:
“Thomas.”
I stared.
“He's dead.”
“He was.”
“Then how?”
She looked toward the floor.
“He left a successor.”
Samuel's expression changed.
“Amelia.”
She continued.
“Someone who inherited everything.”
“Who?”
Amelia looked directly at me.
“You.”
I froze.
“Me?”
She nodded.
“Your father didn't make you the heir.”
“He discovered you already were.”
Samuel stepped forward.
“And that's why the evidence had to disappear.”
“Why?”
“Because if the world learns the truth about the bloodline, every government will want it.”
I looked at the files.
“And Richard?”
“A middleman.”
“Crane?”
“Another.”
“Edward?”
“Another.”
“Then who controls the system?”
Samuel didn't answer.
Amelia did.
“The person who has the original DNA sequence.”
I looked at Daniel.
He shook his head.
“No.”
Amelia pointed toward herself.
“Not me.”
Then Eva.
“Not her.”
Then me.
“Not you.”
I frowned.
“Then who?”
Amelia looked toward the courtroom doors.
The doors opened.
A woman stepped inside.
My mother collapsed into a chair.
I recognized her immediately.
The woman from the lullaby.
Margaret.
But she wasn't alone.
Beside her stood an elderly man in a wheelchair.
His face was thin.
His eyes were sharp.
And despite his age...
I knew him.
I had seen his portrait in the Blackwood estate.
Thomas Blackwood.
The founder of M-17.
The man everyone believed had died before I was born.
He smiled.
“Hello, Elena.”
I couldn't move.
My mother whispered:
“He's alive.”
Thomas looked at her.
“For now.”
He turned toward me.
“You stole my evidence.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He smiled.
“You will.”
“What does that mean?”
“You haven't understood the last piece.”
He looked at Daniel.
Then Amelia.
Then Eva.
Finally, me.
“You were never created to become the perfect heir.”
He paused.
“You were created to become the perfect vault.”
My blood ran cold.
“The evidence isn't stored in Daniel.”
“No.”
“Or Amelia.”
“No.”
“Or Eva.”
“No.”
Thomas pointed toward me.
“It's inside you.”
I felt the room spin.
“No.”
He smiled.
“Your father erased your memories.”
Samuel looked horrified.
“And when he died, the encryption became active.”
I touched my head.
“My memories?”
Thomas nodded.
“Everything you've been searching for.”
“The names.”
“The accounts.”
“The murders.”
“The original M-17 files.”
“All of it is inside your mind.”
I backed away.
“No.”
Thomas smiled.
“That's why your father protected you.”
“That's why Richard feared you.”
“That's why Adrian followed you.”
“And that's why every person in this room has lied to you.”
I looked at my mother.
She was crying.
I looked at Jonathan.
He looked away.
I looked at Samuel.
He lowered his head.
Then I looked at Amelia.
She whispered:
“I'm sorry.”
Thomas smiled.
“Now you understand why the evidence was stolen.”
I looked at the black drive in Amelia's hand.
“What's on it?”
“Nothing.”
I stared.
“Nothing?”
“The archive is a decoy.”
Thomas laughed.
“The real evidence has been inside you all along.”
Then he pressed a button on the arm of his wheelchair.
The courtroom doors slammed shut.
Every light turned red.
A screen descended behind the judge's bench.
On it appeared a single sentence:
MEMORY EXTRACTION: READY.
Thomas looked at me.
“Now, Elena...”
“Let's see what your father tried so desperately to hide.”
The machines around the courtroom began to power on.
And for the first time since this nightmare began...
May you like
I realized the person I needed to fear wasn't the man who wanted to kill me.
It was the man who wanted to make me remember.
