CHAPTER 6 — THE CHILDREN'S FACILITY
CHAPTER 6 — THE CHILDREN'S FACILITY
The lights went out.
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Then Lily screamed.
Not the frightened cry of a child startled by darkness.
A scream of recognition.
“Daddy!”
I ran.
I didn't think.
I didn't ask questions.
I simply followed the sound of my daughter's voice.
“Lily!”
“Daddy!”
I found her at the end of the hallway, clutching Tommy's blanket against her chest.
She was shaking.
“Where's Mommy?” she whispered.
I dropped to my knees.
“She's here.”
“No.”
Lily pointed toward the locked room.
“She went inside.”
I turned.
Claire was gone.
Rebecca was gone.
Daniel was gone.
The hallway was empty.
Then I heard the sound again.
Three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
This time, it came from behind the wall.
I stood.
“Stay here.”
Lily grabbed my shirt.
“Don't go.”
“I have to.”
“Mommy said not to open it.”
I looked down at her.
“What did Mommy tell you?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“She said if you ever heard the knocking, we had to run.”
My stomach dropped.
“Run where?”
She pointed toward the back door.
“To the red house.”
“What red house?”
But Lily had already begun crying.
“I don't know.”
I picked her up.
“It's okay.”
“No, Daddy.”
She buried her face against my shoulder.
“It's not.”
Behind us came another sound.
A metallic click.
I turned.
The wall beside the locked room had opened.
Not broken.
Opened.
A narrow section of paneling slid inward, revealing a dark passage.
Cold air poured through it.
And from somewhere inside came the faint sound of a woman crying.
I stared into the darkness.
Then a voice whispered:
“Ethan.”
I knew that voice.
I had heard it only once before.
On an old recording.
Elena.
Tommy's biological mother.
My supposed sister.
“Stay with Lily,” I told Daniel.
But Daniel wasn't there.
I looked around.
Rebecca was gone too.
Only Lily remained.
I realized then that whatever had happened in the darkness hadn't been random.
They had all disappeared because someone wanted me alone.
I tightened my grip around my daughter.
Then I stepped into the passage.
The tunnel was narrow.
Concrete walls.
Bare electrical cables.
No windows.
Every few yards, a small emergency light flickered.
Lily buried her face against me.
“Daddy.”
“I'm here.”
“Where are we going?”
“To find Mommy.”
“And the lady?”
“What lady?”
“The one behind the wall.”
I stopped.
“You've heard her before?”
Lily nodded.
“She talks to me.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“When?”
“At night.”
“From where?”
She pointed deeper into the tunnel.
“Down there.”
I continued walking.
“How long?”
“Since Tommy came home.”
I felt cold.
“What did she say?”
Lily hesitated.
“She told me not to trust the man with the silver watch.”
I stopped.
“Who has a silver watch?”
Lily looked at me.
“Uncle Daniel.”
My blood went cold.
I remembered Daniel standing upstairs.
His silver watch.
His nervous expression.
The way Rebecca had looked at him.
The way she had said:
You shouldn't be here.
I suddenly understood.
Daniel hadn't simply come to help me.
He had known exactly where we were.
He had known about the hidden passage.
And now he was gone.
“Daddy?”
I forced myself to keep walking.
“It's okay.”
But for the first time, I wasn't sure.
The tunnel ended at a steel door.
There was a keypad beside it.
No numbers.
Only symbols.
I recognized one.
The circle with the vertical line.
Graham's mark.
Lily touched it.
The door unlocked.
I stared at her.
“How did you know?”
She shrugged.
“Mommy taught me.”
The door opened.
And what I saw on the other side made me forget how to breathe.
Rows of beds.
Dozens of them.
Small beds.
Children's beds.
Each separated by a curtain.
Some were empty.
Some still had blankets folded neatly across them.
The room smelled like disinfectant.
There were medical cabinets along the walls.
A row of computers.
A nurse's station.
And on the far wall was a sign.
WILLOW CHILD DEVELOPMENT CENTER
I stared at it.
“This is a hospital.”
Lily whispered:
“No.”
I looked down.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Mommy said it wasn't.”
A monitor suddenly flickered on.
A security camera showed another room.
Children sitting around a table.
Maybe six.
Maybe seven.
One of them looked directly into the camera.
Then the screen changed.
Another room.
A baby sleeping in a crib.
Another.
A teenage girl sitting alone.
Another.
A woman wearing a white coat.
Then black.
A voice came through the speaker.
“Mr. Carter.”
I froze.
Victor.
“Welcome.”
I looked around.
“Where are you?”
“Not far.”
“What do you want?”
“To show you what your family has been hiding.”
“You took my wife.”
“No.”
“You took Elena.”
“I found Elena.”
“You kidnapped her.”
Victor laughed quietly.
“She came willingly.”
“Why?”
“Because she knows what you don't.”
I clenched my jaw.
“Let my family go.”
“Your family is exactly why you're here.”
The screen turned on again.
A file appeared.
PATIENT 041
Then a photograph.
A little girl.
Maybe three years old.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A crescent-shaped birthmark on her shoulder.
I stared at the image.
Lily gasped.
“That's me.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
The photograph changed.
A second image.
The same girl.
Older.
Maybe six.
Then ten.
Then fourteen.
Then eighteen.
I stared at the final photograph.
The woman was Elena.
The woman who had given birth to Tommy.
My supposed sister.
But the dates didn't make sense.
I looked at the screen.
“She's been here for years.”
Victor said nothing.
I turned.
“Where is she?”
The door behind me slammed shut.
Lily screamed.
I ran toward it.
Locked.
I hit the handle.
Nothing.
“Victor!”
No answer.
Then the lights came on.
And I saw the room properly.
There were files everywhere.
Thousands.
Each one labeled with a number.
I pulled one from a shelf.
PATIENT 006.
A boy.
Birth certificate.
Adoption papers.
Medical history.
All altered.
I opened another.
PATIENT 019.
A girl.
Then another.
PATIENT 027.
Another child.
The same pattern.
Birth identity erased.
New identity created.
Medical records changed.
Family history rewritten.
I looked at Lily.
“What is this place?”
She whispered:
“Where Mommy brought us when she was scared.”
I looked at her.
“You've been here?”
She nodded.
“Once.”
“When?”
“When Tommy was born.”
I felt sick.
“What happened?”
“Mommy cried.”
“Why?”
“She said someone had taken him.”
“Who?”
Lily shook her head.
“She didn't say.”
I pulled another file.
Then another.
Some children had been transferred.
Some had died.
Some were marked MISSING.
I opened one.
The child's photograph had been removed.
Only a name remained.
ELENA CARTER.
I stopped.
Carter.
Not Laurent.
Not another surname.
Carter.
My hand trembled.
The file contained one document.
A birth certificate.
Mother:
Martha Carter.
Father:
Unknown.
Child:
Elena Carter.
Date of birth:
Thirty-four years ago.
I stared at it.
Thirty-four.
I was thirty-two.
That was impossible.
I turned the page.
Another document.
A DNA test.
I read the results.
Then I read them again.
Elena was not my sister.
She was my mother.
I stopped breathing.
The room spun.
“No.”
Lily grabbed my hand.
“Daddy?”
I couldn't answer.
The document said it clearly.
MATERNAL RELATIONSHIP: 99.98%.
Elena was my biological mother.
Not my sister.
Not Tommy's mother.
My mother.
The woman I had spent my entire life believing was dead.
The woman Claire had called my sister.
The woman behind the wall.
I stumbled backward.
“This is wrong.”
A speaker crackled.
Victor's voice returned.
“No.”
I stared at the ceiling.
“Where is she?”
“Closer than you think.”
“Bring her here.”
“You aren't ready.”
“I said bring her here!”
A door opened across the room.
A woman stepped out.
She looked exhausted.
Older than the photographs.
Thin.
Pale.
Her hair was streaked with gray.
But her eyes—
I knew those eyes.
I had seen them every morning in my own mirror.
She stopped.
Her hand covered her mouth.
“Ethan?”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Mom?”
The woman began crying.
“Yes.”
I couldn't move.
Lily looked between us.
“Daddy?”
The woman slowly approached.
“You have your father's eyes.”
I shook my head.
“You're dead.”
“I was supposed to be.”
“Why did everyone tell me you were dead?”
“Because I was hidden.”
“From who?”
She looked toward the cameras.
“Victor.”
I stared at her.
“Why did you let me believe you were my sister?”
“Because that was the only way I could get close to you.”
I felt betrayed all over again.
“Close to me?”
She nodded.
“I watched you grow.”
“You watched me?”
“Every year.”
“Why didn't you come home?”
“Because if I did, they would kill you.”
I pointed at the files.
“Who are they?”
She looked at Lily.
Then at me.
“The people who built this place.”
“Graham?”
“Graham started it.”
“Victor?”
“He finished it.”
I looked at the hundreds of children's files.
“What were they doing?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Selling identities.”
“For money?”
“For control.”
She walked toward a cabinet.
“Some children came from wealthy families.”
“Some from poor families.”
“Some were kidnapped.”
“Some were bought.”
“Some were deliberately separated from their parents.”
She pulled out a file.
“They weren't interested in children as children.”
She handed it to me.
“They were interested in what children could become.”
I opened it.
Inside was my own name.
ETHAN CARTER.
My birth date.
My medical history.
My blood type.
My childhood photographs.
Every detail of my life.
Except one.
The name of my biological father.
It was blacked out.
I looked at my mother.
“Who is he?”
She started crying.
“I don't know.”
“That's not possible.”
“I never knew.”
“You must.”
She shook her head.
“Your father was hidden from me.”
“Michael?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
She whispered:
“Graham.”
I stared at her.
“Graham was my father?”
She nodded.
The room seemed to shrink.
“That means…”
“Yes.”
I looked at Lily.
“Lily is…”
My mother finished the sentence.
“Your daughter is connected to the same bloodline.”
I felt sick.
“What bloodline?”
She looked at the ceiling camera.
Then whispered:
“The Laurent line.”
My heart stopped.
“Laurent?”
“Bianca Laurent.”
I stared at her.
“Who's Bianca?”
My mother looked terrified.
“The woman who has been trying to find you.”
I didn't know the name.
But Lily did.
She whispered:
“Mommy said that name once.”
I turned toward her.
“When?”
“Before Tommy was born.”
“What did Mommy say?”
Lily looked frightened.
“She said…”
The little girl swallowed.
“She said Bianca was coming for us.”
I stared at my mother.
“Who is Bianca Laurent?”
My mother didn't answer.
Instead, she looked toward the door.
Then she whispered:
“She is Victor's daughter.”
The lights flickered.
A lock clicked.
And every screen in the facility turned on at once.
Hundreds of children's faces appeared.
Then one final image.
Claire.
She was sitting in a chair.
Her hands were tied.
A man stood behind her.
Daniel.
My brother.
The silver watch gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights.
I felt something inside me snap.
Victor's voice came through the speakers.
“Now you understand.”
I stepped toward the screen.
“Where is my wife?”
Daniel leaned toward the camera.
His face was expressionless.
Then he said:
“She isn't your wife, Ethan.”
My blood froze.
Daniel smiled.
“She never was.”
The screen went black.
And somewhere deep inside the facility, a child's voice began crying.
Then another.
May you like
Then another.
Until the entire building was filled with the sound of children screaming.
