Chapter 10 — The Missing Medical Files
Chapter 10 — The Missing Medical Files
The hospital records disappeared at 2:17 in the morning.
Not one file.
Not ten.
All of them.
Every medical record connected to my family had vanished from the hospital database.
My records.
Noah's records.
Elise's records.
My mother's records.
Even the archived files from Project One.
The screen in front of me went completely blank.
Then a message appeared.
NO RECORD FOUND.
I stared at it.
"No."
The technician beside me tried again.
Nothing.
He searched Noah's name.
Nothing.
Elise's.
Nothing.
Mine.
Nothing.
Then he searched my mother's name.
The system returned a single result.
PATIENT NOT FOUND.
I felt a chill move through me.
"They didn't delete the records."
My grandfather looked at me.
"What?"
"They erased the existence of the patients."
The technician swallowed.
"That's technically impossible."
I looked at him.
"Apparently not."
Dr. Moore rushed into the room.
"What happened?"
"The files are gone."
She stopped.
"What files?"
"All neonatal records."
Her face changed.
"That's impossible."
"That's what he said."
I pointed at the technician.
Dr. Moore immediately went to the terminal.
She entered her credentials.
Access denied.
She tried again.
Access denied.
"Someone revoked my authorization."
My grandfather's expression hardened.
"Who has administrator privileges?"
The technician answered.
"Only six people."
"Names."
He hesitated.
"Yourself. The hospital director. The chief medical officer. The IT director. The research administrator."
"And?"
The technician looked toward me.
"Mrs. Whitmore."
I frowned.
"I don't have hospital administrator access."
"You do now."
"What?"
He turned the screen toward me.
My name appeared.
EXECUTIVE MASTER ACCESS — ACTIVE.
I had never requested it.
My grandfather stared at the screen.
"Someone is building a paper trail."
"To make it look like I erased the records."
"Yes."
I looked at the clock.
2:21.
Four minutes.
Four minutes was all it had taken to erase twenty-nine years of history.
Then another alert appeared.
REMOTE BACKUP PURGE INITIATED.
The technician went pale.
"Stop it."
"I can't."
"Override it."
"I don't have authorization."
My grandfather leaned over the console.
"I do."
He entered his private credentials.
The system rejected them.
He tried again.
Rejected.
He looked at me.
"Someone has locked me out."
I stared at the screen.
The countdown continued.
BACKUP PURGE: 00:41
Forty-one seconds.
I didn't think.
"Disconnect the server."
The technician shook his head.
"That could damage the entire system."
"Do it."
"Emma—"
"Do it."
He pulled the emergency cable.
The screen went black.
The countdown disappeared.
For one second, nobody spoke.
Then the technician whispered:
"We stopped it."
My grandfather exhaled.
"How much survived?"
The technician checked.
"Some of it."
"How much?"
"Eight percent."
My heart sank.
"Which files?"
He looked at me.
"One file."
"What file?"
He opened it.
A scanned document appeared.
My mother's name.
And beneath it:
SUBJECT 17 — TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION.
I stepped closer.
"Open it."
The technician clicked.
The document loaded slowly.
At the bottom was a signature.
My grandmother's.
And beside it...
another signature.
I recognized the name immediately.
Julian Cross.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
The date was twenty-nine years ago.
The document authorized the transfer of an infant from St. Aurelia Hospital to Beacon Crest.
The infant's name was hidden.
Only one line remained visible.
FEMALE — BORN 04:12 A.M.
I looked at my grandfather.
"Was that my mother?"
He shook his head.
"No."
"Then who?"
"We don't know."
The technician enlarged the final section.
A handwritten note appeared beneath the signature.
DO NOT RECORD THE CHILD'S TRUE IDENTITY.
My breathing stopped.
"Why?"
My grandfather whispered:
"Because whoever controlled that child would control Project One."
A door opened behind us.
Grant walked in.
He looked exhausted.
"Have you found Elise?"
I turned.
"No."
He looked at the screen.
"What is that?"
"My mother's file."
He stepped closer.
Then froze.
"I've seen that."
I stared.
"Where?"
"In Cross's archive."
"What did it say?"
Grant pointed toward the document.
"That wasn't a transfer."
"What was it?"
"A substitution."
The word hung in the room.
"What does that mean?"
Grant swallowed.
"One baby was supposed to be transferred."
He looked at me.
"But another baby arrived."
My grandfather closed his eyes.
"Yes."
I stared at him.
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You knew enough."
He didn't answer.
"Tell me."
My grandfather finally spoke.
"Your mother was the substitute."
"For whom?"
He looked toward the document.
"For the child Project One was designed to protect."
I felt a cold pressure in my chest.
"Who was that child?"
My grandfather whispered:
"Your grandmother's biological daughter."
I stared at him.
"Then my mother wasn't her daughter?"
"No."
"Then whose daughter was she?"
"We don't know."
"Where was the other child?"
My grandfather looked away.
"Dead."
Grant suddenly stepped backward.
"No."
I turned.
"What?"
He was staring at the screen.
"That's not possible."
"What?"
"The date."
"What about it?"
Grant pointed.
"The substitution happened three hours after the fire at St. Aurelia."
I frowned.
"What fire?"
"The fire that supposedly killed everyone in the maternity ward."
My grandfather's face became grim.
"Not everyone."
Grant nodded.
"Exactly."
He looked at me.
"Someone escaped."
"Who?"
"Your grandmother."
Silence.
My grandfather turned toward him.
"She wasn't at St. Aurelia."
Grant shook his head.
"She was."
"No."
"I saw the security footage."
"From where?"
"Cross showed it to me."
My grandfather's voice hardened.
"When?"
"Three years ago."
"Why?"
"To prove he could destroy you whenever he wanted."
I stared at Grant.
"What did the footage show?"
He hesitated.
"Your grandmother carrying a baby."
My heart stopped.
"Which baby?"
Grant looked at the document.
"The one they said was dead."
Suddenly my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's voice whispered:
"Emma."
I froze.
"Who is this?"
"You don't know me."
"Where is my daughter?"
"Safe."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Rachel Bennett."
I looked at the technician.
The name meant nothing to me.
But my grandfather reacted.
His face went pale.
"Rachel?"
The woman continued.
"I was the nurse on duty the night your mother was born."
My heart raced.
"You were at St. Aurelia?"
"Yes."
"Then you know what happened."
"I know everything."
"Tell me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because they found me."
"Who?"
"Julian Cross."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"Where are you?"
She whispered an address.
Then the line went dead.
I looked at my grandfather.
"You know her."
He nodded slowly.
"Rachel Bennett was one of the original nurses."
"She knows who I am."
"She knows who your mother was."
"Then we're going."
He immediately shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if Rachel survived all these years, there's a reason she stayed hidden."
"Exactly."
"Emma—"
"I'm going."
Grant stood.
"I'm coming."
I looked at him.
"No."
"I know Cross."
"That's why you're staying here."
"Emma."
"You betrayed me."
He lowered his head.
"But you also know his operation."
I paused.
He continued.
"If Rachel has something Cross wants, he'll come after her."
My grandfather looked at him.
"He's right."
I hated that he was.
"Fine."
Grant nodded.
"But if you betray me again..."
"I won't."
"You don't get another chance."
"I know."
We left the hospital through a private entrance.
Security surrounded us.
The city was quiet.
Too quiet.
As the car moved through the dark streets, I couldn't stop thinking about Elise.
My daughter was somewhere.
Alive.
And the people who had taken her believed she was more valuable than Noah.
More valuable than billions of dollars.
More valuable than the company.
She was connected to something that had begun before I was born.
Something my grandfather had spent decades hiding.
Something Julian Cross was willing to kill for.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message.
No number.
Just a photograph.
I opened it.
My breath caught.
Elise.
She was asleep.
Wrapped in the same white blanket.
Beside her was a small handwritten card.
SHE IS SAFE FOR NOW.
Another message appeared.
ASK RACHEL ABOUT THE SECOND BABY.
I stared at the words.
The second baby.
My grandfather saw the screen.
He immediately said:
"Don't trust it."
"Why?"
"Because Cross wants you to go there."
"I know."
"Then why are you still going?"
I looked at my daughter's photograph.
"Because he just gave me the one thing he should never have shown me."
"What?"
"Proof that Elise is alive."
We arrived at the address.
An abandoned church.
The doors were unlocked.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and old wood.
"Rachel?"
No answer.
We moved deeper inside.
A light flickered near the altar.
A woman sat in the front row.
Gray hair.
Thin frame.
Old-fashioned coat.
She stood slowly.
"Emma."
I stepped forward.
"Rachel Bennett?"
She nodded.
Then she looked at my grandfather.
"You shouldn't have come."
He stared at her.
"You've been alive all this time."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you contact me?"
"Because you weren't ready."
His expression hardened.
"Ready for what?"
Rachel looked at me.
"The truth."
She handed me a sealed envelope.
"This belonged to your mother."
My hands trembled.
"When did she give it to you?"
"The night she disappeared."
"She knew she was going to disappear?"
Rachel nodded.
"She knew they were coming."
"Who?"
"Your grandmother."
My grandfather stepped forward.
"That's a lie."
Rachel looked at him.
"You were there."
He froze.
"What?"
"You helped carry the second baby."
My grandfather's face went white.
I turned toward him.
"Second baby?"
Rachel nodded.
"There were two."
My heart stopped.
"Twins?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Rachel looked at me.
"Two girls."
I couldn't breathe.
"One was your mother."
"And the other?"
Rachel's eyes filled with tears.
"The other was taken."
"By whom?"
She whispered:
"Your grandmother."
My grandfather sat down.
I could barely hear my own voice.
"Why?"
Rachel opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Two newborn babies.
One wore a yellow bracelet.
The other wore a white one.
On the back of the photograph were two names.
SUBJECT 17.
SUBJECT 18.
I stared.
"Which one was my mother?"
Rachel pointed to the baby with the yellow bracelet.
"Subject 17."
"And Subject 18?"
Rachel looked at me.
"Your grandmother's real daughter."
My stomach twisted.
"Where is she?"
Rachel shook her head.
"Nobody knows."
"That's not possible."
"She disappeared that night."
"And my mother?"
"She was raised in her place."
I stared at the photograph.
The woman I had called my mother all my life had lived under another child's identity.
Then I remembered something.
Elise's yellow sock.
17.
My daughter had been marked with the same number.
I looked at Rachel.
"Why does my daughter have Subject 17's marker?"
Rachel's expression changed.
"Because the marker isn't genetic."
I froze.
"What?"
"It's artificial."
My grandfather looked up.
Rachel continued.
"Your grandmother created it."
"Then why did they need my blood?"
"They didn't."
"Then what did they need?"
Rachel whispered:
"They needed the original implant."
My heart stopped.
"Implant?"
Rachel nodded.
"The first Project One children were given a microscopic biological marker."
"Where?"
"In their bodies."
"Why?"
"To track them."
I touched my chest instinctively.
"But I don't have one."
Rachel looked at me.
"Yes, you do."
The room became silent.
"Where?"
Rachel pointed toward my shoulder.
"Your mother told me never to tell you."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because she knew someone would eventually try to activate it."
My blood ran cold.
"Activate what?"
Rachel looked toward the church doors.
Her face suddenly filled with fear.
"The tracker."
A car door slammed outside.
Rachel whispered:
"They found us."
Security moved toward the entrance.
Grant drew back.
My grandfather grabbed my arm.
"Emma, we leave now."
But Rachel shook her head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if you leave, they'll follow you."
"Who?"
She looked at me.
"The person who has been inside your family from the beginning."
The doors opened.
A silhouette appeared.
I couldn't see the face.
Then the lights came on.
Vanessa stood in the doorway.
I stared at her.
"What are you doing here?"
She looked at Rachel.
Then at me.
"I came to tell you the truth."
I stepped forward.
"Which truth?"
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
"Grant wasn't the one who betrayed you first."
She looked toward my grandfather.
"Your grandfather did."
My grandfather went rigid.
I turned toward him.
Vanessa continued:
"He knew about the second baby."
Silence.
"He knew where she went."
I could barely breathe.
My grandfather whispered:
"Vanessa..."
She shook her head.
"No more lies."
She looked at me.
"Because the second baby wasn't lost."
My heart stopped.
"Where is she?"
Vanessa's answer was barely audible.
"She's alive."
"Who is she?"
Vanessa looked at me.
Then at Grant.
Then at the photograph in my hand.
And finally she said:
"She's the woman you've trusted more than anyone."
I felt a chill move through me.
"Who?"
Vanessa took one step forward.
"Your mother wasn't the only person who survived that night."
She paused.
"Your mother's sister survived too."
I stared at her.
"Where is she?"
Vanessa's voice broke.
"She's been beside you your entire life."
The church doors slammed shut behind her.
And suddenly I understood why the medical files had disappeared.
They weren't hiding Noah.
They weren't hiding Elise.
They weren't even hiding me.
They were hiding the identity of the woman who had spent twenty-nine years living under a stolen name.
A woman who knew exactly who I was.
May you like
A woman who knew exactly where Elise had been taken.
And a woman who, until that moment, I had believed was dead.
