CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 6
THE WOMAN ELENA USED TO BE
For several seconds, I couldn't understand the words.
They seemed to hang in the dark archive between us.
I killed your father.
My father.
Robert Hayes.
The man I had spent twenty-five years believing had abandoned me emotionally because he was grieving my mother.
The man whose voice I still remembered.
The man whose photographs had filled my childhood home.
The man who had taught me how to ride a bicycle.
The man who had kissed my forehead every night before leaving for work.
Dead for six years.
And Luka had just said he killed him.
I stared at him.
"Say that again."
He didn't.
"Luka."
His jaw tightened.
"I killed Robert."
"When?"
"Six years ago."
My heart began pounding.
"You told me he died naturally."
"I told you what everyone was told."
"Why?"
"Because Robert wanted it that way."
I laughed.
It sounded broken.
"So my father planned his own death?"
"No."
"Then what happened?"
Luka looked at the black computer screen.
"Robert asked me to kill him."
I froze.
"What?"
"He knew they were coming."
"Who?"
"Marcus."
"My father's enemy?"
"Yes."
"Why would Robert ask you to kill him?"
"Because he knew what Marcus would do if he was captured."
I shook my head.
"This doesn't make sense."
"It will."
"When?"
"When you understand who Robert really was."
I stepped closer.
"Then tell me."
Luka looked at me for a long moment.
"You don't want the truth."
"You're wrong."
"You've spent twenty-five years living inside a story your father created."
"I said I want the truth."
"And the truth will destroy that story."
"Good."
My voice cracked.
"Let it."
He nodded.
Then he pulled a chair toward me.
"Sit."
"I don't want to sit."
"You may need to."
I remained standing.
Luka took a breath.
"Your father wasn't just a scientist."
"I know."
"No. You don't."
He reached into his jacket.
He pulled out another photograph.
It showed a woman.
Young.
Beautiful.
Dark hair.
Sharp eyes.
I stared.
The woman looked familiar.
Not because I knew her.
Because she looked like me.
"What is that?"
"You."
I frowned.
"That's not me."
"It is."
"No."
"Look at the date."
I turned the photograph over.
2008.
I was seven years old.
The girl in the picture looked older.
Maybe sixteen.
Seventeen.
Impossible.
"This is a mistake."
"No."
"Who is she?"
"You."
I looked at Luka.
"That's impossible."
"That's what Robert wanted you to believe."
My hands started shaking.
"What are you saying?"
"You weren't raised from birth."
I stared.
"You were taken."
"From whom?"
"From yourself."
I didn't understand.
He placed another photograph beside the first.
A little girl.
Three years old.
Me.
I recognized myself immediately.
Same eyes.
Same small scar beneath my left eyebrow.
Then another photograph.
A teenage girl.
The same scar.
The same eyes.
The same face.
But older.
I looked from one photograph to another.
"Who is she?"
"You."
"Then why don't I remember?"
"Because you were never supposed to."
My stomach twisted.
"What did they do to me?"
Luka hesitated.
"Memory suppression."
I laughed.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Elena."
"I remember my childhood."
"You remember what Robert allowed you to remember."
The room seemed to tilt.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
"You're saying my memories are fake?"
"Not all of them."
"Which ones?"
"The safe ones."
"Who decided what was safe?"
"Robert."
I looked at the photograph again.
The teenage girl was standing in a laboratory.
Behind her was a familiar symbol.
A black circle crossed by seventeen lines.
M-17.
My throat tightened.
"Why would I be in a laboratory?"
"Because you weren't just a child."
"What was I?"
Luka's voice became quiet.
"You were the first successful subject."
I couldn't breathe.
"No."
"Elena—"
"No."
I pushed the photographs away.
"I was born twenty-five years ago."
"Yes."
"Then how could I be a teenage girl in 2008?"
"You weren't born twenty-five years ago."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"You were born earlier."
The room became completely silent.
I shook my head.
"My birth certificate says—"
"Your birth certificate was altered."
"My father—"
"Altered it."
"The hospital records—"
"Erased."
"My mother—"
"Hidden."
I stared at him.
"Then how old am I?"
Luka didn't answer.
"How old?"
"Thirty-four."
The number hit me like a physical blow.
I laughed.
Then stopped.
"That's impossible."
"You've been biologically altered."
"What does that mean?"
"Your body was accelerated."
"Why?"
"To test whether the M-17 sequence could be passed to future generations."
I looked down at my daughter.
My baby.
My entire body went cold.
"You mean..."
"Yes."
"She was the real objective."
I couldn't speak.
Luka nodded.
"Your daughter is the first naturally born child carrying the complete sequence."
I stared at him.
"And I was the experiment."
"Yes."
The word destroyed something inside me.
I stepped away.
"I don't believe you."
Luka didn't move.
"I know."
"You're lying."
"I wish I were."
"Why would my father do this to me?"
"Because he believed he could save you."
"Save me from what?"
"From Marcus."
I looked at him.
"Marcus created M-17."
"Yes."
"And my father tried to stop him."
"Eventually."
"What happened between them?"
Luka's expression darkened.
"They were brothers."
I froze.
"What?"
"Robert Hayes wasn't your biological father's name."
My heart stopped.
"What did you say?"
"Robert Hayes was an identity."
"Then who was my father?"
Luka stared at me.
"Marcus Moretti."
I couldn't breathe.
"No."
"Your mother was Maria Moretti."
"Then..."
I looked at Luka.
He nodded.
"Marcus is your biological father."
The room seemed to disappear.
I heard only my own heartbeat.
"Then why did Robert raise me?"
"Because he stole you."
"From Marcus?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Marcus wanted to use you."
"For M-17."
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
The pieces were beginning to form.
My mother.
Marcus.
Robert.
Luka.
The sixteen children.
My daughter.
Everything was connected.
But one question remained.
"Why did you say you killed my father?"
Luka looked at me.
"Which father?"
I stared at him.
He continued.
"I killed Robert."
My heart clenched.
"Why?"
"Because he asked me to."
"And Marcus?"
"He's still alive."
"Then why did you tell me Robert was my father?"
"Because Robert was your father in every way that mattered."
I looked away.
Tears blurred my vision.
"I loved him."
"I know."
"He loved me."
"Yes."
"Then why did he lie?"
"Because he was terrified that if you remembered who you were, you'd become what Marcus wanted."
I wiped my face.
"What was I?"
Luka looked at the photographs.
"A weapon."
I stared.
"Against whom?"
"Everyone."
The words chilled me.
"You were the only person whose genetic sequence could theoretically stabilize M-17."
"And they wanted to use me."
"Yes."
"For money."
"Money."
"Power."
"Power."
"Immortality."
Luka's eyes hardened.
"Something like it."
I sat down.
My daughter began making small noises in her bassinet.
I reached for her.
She gripped my finger.
I looked at her tiny hand.
"Then why does she matter so much?"
"Because she inherited the part of you they couldn't control."
"What part?"
"Free expression."
I frowned.
"Explain."
"Your body was artificially altered."
"Yes."
"Your daughter's wasn't."
"So?"
"She developed naturally."
He pointed to the file.
"That makes her more stable than you."
I stared.
"And more valuable."
"Yes."
The pieces made me sick.
I had spent twenty-five years believing I was ordinary.
I wasn't.
I had spent my entire pregnancy believing my husband was the father of my child.
He wasn't.
I had believed my mother was dead.
She might not be.
I had believed my father died six years ago.
Luka had killed him.
And now I was being told that the woman I thought I was...
had never existed.
I whispered:
"Who was Elena Hayes?"
Luka looked at me.
"She was the girl Robert created."
"And who am I?"
He took a long breath.
"Elena Moretti."
My blood ran cold.
"No."
"Your name was changed."
"When?"
"When you were three."
I remembered something.
A sound.
A woman's voice.
A lullaby.
A name whispered repeatedly.
Not Elena.
Something else.
I closed my eyes.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced.
A white room.
Bright lights.
A woman's hands.
My mother's face.
She was crying.
Someone was standing behind glass.
A man.
Tall.
Dark hair.
He was shouting.
Then—
a needle.
Pain.
My body froze.
I opened my eyes.
Luka was watching me.
"You remembered something."
I nodded slowly.
"I saw my mother."
"What else?"
"She was crying."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Try."
"There was a man behind glass."
"Marcus?"
"I don't know."
"What happened next?"
I touched my temple.
"A needle."
Luka's face hardened.
"Then what?"
"I heard my mother say something."
"What?"
I closed my eyes.
The memory came closer.
"Run..."
My breath caught.
"She told someone to run."
"Who?"
I opened my eyes.
"Me."
Luka went still.
I continued.
"She told me to run."
Then another memory surfaced.
A door opening.
My mother's hand pushing me forward.
A young man standing in the doorway.
Luka.
But he looked different.
Younger.
Blood was running down his face.
He was holding a gun.
My mother shouted:
"Take her!"
Luka grabbed me.
Then—
a gunshot.
I screamed.
The memory disappeared.
I opened my eyes.
Luka was staring at me.
"You remember."
"Yes."
"What else?"
"You were there."
"Yes."
"You were bleeding."
"Yes."
"You tried to take me."
"Yes."
"And someone shot you."
"Marcus."
I swallowed.
"My mother gave me to you."
"Yes."
"But you lost me."
"Yes."
I looked at him.
"Then why did Robert say you killed him?"
Luka's expression became hollow.
"Because six years ago, Robert told me the truth."
"What truth?"
"That Marcus had found you."
I froze.
"What?"
"Marcus knew where you lived."
"But he never came."
"Because Robert made a deal."
"What deal?"
"He promised Marcus access to the M-17 research."
"In exchange for me?"
"In exchange for your safety."
"Did Marcus agree?"
"Yes."
"Then why did Robert die?"
"Because Marcus broke the deal."
I stared.
"What happened?"
"Robert called me."
"When?"
"Six years ago."
"Where was he?"
"In the old laboratory."
"And?"
"He told me there was no way to protect you anymore."
I waited.
"He asked me to kill him."
"Why?"
"Because Marcus had already infiltrated his security."
"And if Marcus captured him?"
"He would reveal where you were."
"So you killed him."
"Yes."
I looked down.
"How?"
Luka didn't answer.
"How did you kill my father?"
He looked at me.
"I put a bullet through his heart."
My breath caught.
"And he thanked me."
I closed my eyes.
I could almost hear my father's voice.
Almost.
Then Luka said something that made me open them again.
"But Robert wasn't alone."
"Who was with him?"
"Your mother."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"Maria was there."
"She was alive?"
"Yes."
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know."
"You said she was there."
"She disappeared before I arrived."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because that's the truth."
I stared at him.
Then my phone vibrated.
I hadn't even realized it was in my pocket.
Unknown number.
One message.
YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT ROBERT HID?
My blood ran cold.
Another message arrived.
COME ALONE.
Then a photograph.
I opened it.
My hands started shaking.
It was my mother.
Older.
Alive.
Standing in front of a window.
Holding a photograph.
The photograph showed me.
And my daughter.
A third message appeared.
YOUR MOTHER HAS BEEN WATCHING YOU.
I looked at Luka.
He had seen my face.
"What?"
I handed him the phone.
He looked at the photograph.
His expression changed instantly.
"Where did they get this?"
"I don't know."
He zoomed in.
There was a reflection in the window behind my mother.
A hospital sign.
Luka's face went pale.
"This was taken today."
I swallowed.
"Where?"
He turned the phone toward me.
The sign was blurry.
But one word was visible.
ST. AGNES.
My heart stopped.
"That hospital was demolished."
"Yes."
"Then how—"
"There's an underground facility beneath it."
I stared at him.
"And my mother is there."
"Maybe."
"You said she might be dead."
"I was wrong."
I stood.
"We're going."
Luka grabbed my arm.
"No."
I pulled away.
"She's my mother."
"And someone wants you to go there."
"I don't care."
"You should."
"Why?"
"Because if Maria really is alive, then she knows everything."
"Exactly."
"And if she has been watching you..."
He looked at the photograph again.
"...she may know who your daughter's father really is."
I froze.
The possibility I'd tried not to think about returned.
Luka.
The computer had listed him as a candidate.
Daniel wasn't the father.
Marcus was my biological father.
But there was another possibility.
One that could destroy everything.
I looked at Luka.
"Was there ever a test?"
He didn't answer.
"A DNA test between you and my daughter."
Silence.
"Luka."
"Yes."
My heart stopped.
"When?"
"The night she was born."
"Who ordered it?"
"Marcus."
"What's the result?"
Luka looked at me.
"I never saw it."
"Why?"
"Because someone deleted it."
"Who?"
He hesitated.
Then:
"Robert."
My blood ran cold.
"My father deleted the DNA result?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Luka looked toward the door.
"Because if the result was positive..."
He stopped.
"What?"
His eyes met mine.
"...then your daughter wouldn't just be M-17."
I waited.
"She would be something else."
"What?"
He didn't answer.
My phone vibrated again.
One final message appeared.
ASK LUKA WHO HE WAS TO YOU BEFORE YOU FORGOT.
I slowly looked up.
Luka's face had gone completely still.
"Before I forgot?"
He said nothing.
"What was I to you?"
His eyes dropped.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he whispered:
"You weren't just the girl I was ordered to protect."
"What was I?"
He looked at me.
"You were the woman I loved."
The world went silent.
And suddenly, the memories I had spent twenty-five years without began rushing toward me.
A boy with blood on his face.
A girl crying in a white room.
A promise.
A kiss.
A gunshot.
A name.
May you like
Luka.
And somewhere deep inside my mind, a locked door had just begun to open.
