Chapter 13 — The Woman Who Knew Emma's Grandfather
Chapter 13 — The Woman Who Knew Emma's Grandfather
The photograph slipped from my fingers.
It landed on the floor between us.
Nobody moved.
For twelve years, I had believed my father was dead.
For twenty-nine years, my grandfather had allowed me to believe it.
And now, after everything that had happened, a single photograph had turned my entire childhood into a lie.
HE WAS NEVER DEAD.
I looked at my grandfather.
"Tell me."
He said nothing.
"Tell me where my father is."
His face was gray.
"I don't know."
I laughed once.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"It's the truth."
"You told me he was dead."
"Because that's what I believed."
Eleanor shook her head.
"No."
My grandfather turned toward her.
"Don't."
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You knew enough."
"Enough to keep her alive."
I looked between them.
"Stop talking about me like I'm not standing here."
They both went silent.
I bent down and picked up the photograph.
The baby had the same yellow bracelet I'd seen in the old photograph of Subject Seventeen.
The same marker.
The same symbol.
But the baby was a boy.
My hands began to shake.
"Who is this?"
Eleanor whispered:
"Daniel."
My grandfather closed his eyes.
"My father?"
"No."
She looked at me.
"Your father as a newborn."
I stared at the photograph.
"So my father was also part of Project One?"
"Yes."
"Then why was he hidden?"
"Because your grandfather wanted him hidden."
I turned.
"Is that true?"
My grandfather finally nodded.
"Your father was born into the project."
"And you took him away?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Somewhere Cross could never find him."
Eleanor smiled sadly.
"You were wrong."
My grandfather looked at her.
"He's been found."
The room suddenly felt too small.
I walked toward the window.
"How long has he been alive?"
"I don't know."
"Twenty-nine years?"
"Yes."
"Did my mother know?"
"Yes."
"Did she know where he was?"
"She tried to find him."
"And you stopped her?"
My grandfather didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
I turned around.
"Why?"
"Because your father wasn't safe."
"From Cross?"
"From everyone."
"Why?"
My grandfather looked at Eleanor.
"Because Daniel was the only successful male carrier."
The words made my stomach turn.
"What does that mean?"
Eleanor answered.
"Project One wasn't designed to create soldiers."
"Then what was it designed for?"
"Control."
"Control of what?"
"Human biology."
She stepped closer.
"Your grandmother believed that if the marker could be passed through generations, she could predict disease, manipulate fertility, and control the inheritance of certain traits."
I stared at her.
"That's why my children matter."
"Yes."
"And my father?"
"He was the proof it worked."
My grandfather shook his head.
"He was also the proof it could fail."
A sound came from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
Security rushed in.
"Emma."
"What?"
"We have a problem."
"What happened?"
"The hospital lost contact with the NICU."
My blood froze.
"No."
"All systems?"
"Yes."
"Where's Noah?"
"Still inside."
I ran.
Grant followed.
My grandfather shouted for security.
The corridor lights flickered.
Then went dark.
Emergency lighting came on.
Red.
Cold.
Terrifying.
We reached the NICU.
The door was open.
A nurse was lying unconscious near the entrance.
My heart stopped.
"Noah!"
I rushed inside.
His incubator was empty.
For one horrible second, I couldn't breathe.
Then I saw the nurse standing near the wall.
"Where is my son?"
She pointed toward the observation room.
"Security moved him."
I ran.
Noah was there.
Alive.
Safe.
Wrapped in a white blanket.
A guard stood beside him.
I nearly collapsed with relief.
Then I noticed something.
The nurse who had brought him wasn't one of ours.
She was wearing a Beacon Crest uniform.
But I had never seen her before.
"Who are you?"
She froze.
"I work here."
"Name?"
She hesitated.
"Rachel."
I stared.
"Rachel?"
She looked toward my grandfather.
He suddenly stepped forward.
"Leave."
The woman backed away.
I looked at him.
"You know her."
He nodded.
"She worked for me."
"When?"
"Years ago."
"What was her name?"
He didn't answer.
The woman whispered:
"Margaret Vale."
My grandfather's face changed.
I had never seen him look so frightened.
"Margaret."
She smiled.
"You remember me."
Security surrounded her.
Grant stepped between us.
"Who is she?"
My grandfather answered:
"Your grandmother's former physician."
I stared at Margaret.
"You worked for my grandmother?"
"Yes."
"What did you do?"
"Everything she asked."
"Project One?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you here?"
Margaret looked at Noah.
"Because the boy needs to be protected."
"From whom?"
She looked at me.
"From your aunt."
I frowned.
"Eleanor?"
"Yes."
Eleanor suddenly entered the room.
"Don't listen to her."
Margaret smiled.
"Still protecting your lies?"
Eleanor's face hardened.
"You don't know what happened."
"I know exactly what happened."
She looked at me.
"Your aunt isn't your family's greatest threat."
I asked:
"Who is?"
Margaret pointed at my grandfather.
"Him."
The room went silent.
My grandfather didn't react.
I stared at him.
"What did you do?"
Margaret's voice was cold.
"He didn't save your father."
She paused.
"He sold him."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
My grandfather finally shouted:
"Enough!"
Margaret continued.
"He sold Daniel to Cross."
"No."
"Yes."
"That's impossible."
Margaret looked at me.
"Your grandfather needed money to keep the hospital network alive."
I turned toward him.
"Is that true?"
He looked broken.
"It wasn't like that."
"Then explain it."
"Cross threatened the hospital."
"With what?"
"He had evidence of financial fraud."
My grandfather lowered his head.
"I made a deal."
"What deal?"
"Daniel."
The word echoed through the room.
I stared at him.
"You traded your own son."
"I thought I could get him back."
"Did you?"
"No."
"Did my mother know?"
"No."
"Did you tell her he was alive?"
"No."
My voice broke.
"You let her die believing he was dead."
Tears filled his eyes.
"Yes."
Margaret stepped closer.
"That's why your mother left the final letter."
"What letter?"
"The one you opened."
I looked at the envelope.
Margaret nodded.
"She knew your grandfather had betrayed Daniel."
"How?"
"Because she found the original contract."
"The contract with Cross?"
"Yes."
"Where is it?"
Margaret smiled.
"Your aunt has it."
Eleanor looked at her.
"You shouldn't have said that."
Margaret laughed.
"Why?"
"Because now she'll come for it."
I turned toward Eleanor.
"Do you have the contract?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it proves your grandfather's betrayal."
"Then give it to me."
"I will."
"When?"
"After you rescue Elise."
My blood ran cold.
"Where is she?"
Eleanor looked at Margaret.
Then at me.
"With your father."
The room went completely silent.
"My father has Elise?"
"No."
"Then who?"
"Julian Cross."
Eleanor's expression became bitter.
"Your father is trying to get her back."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"No."
"Then how do you know he's alive?"
Eleanor looked at me.
"Because he contacted me yesterday."
My heart stopped.
"What did he say?"
"He said one thing."
"What?"
"Tell Emma I'm sorry."
I swallowed.
"Sorry for what?"
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
"For leaving her."
I couldn't move.
My father had been alive.
He had known about me.
He had known where I was.
And he had never come back.
"Why?"
Eleanor answered softly.
"Because Cross threatened to kill you."
"So he stayed away."
"Yes."
"And my mother?"
"He loved her."
"Then why didn't he tell her?"
"He tried."
"How?"
"Letters."
I stared.
"Where are they?"
Eleanor reached into her coat.
She pulled out a bundle of envelopes.
Old.
Yellowed.
Unopened.
My mother's name was written across every one.
I took them.
There were dozens.
Some dated twenty years ago.
Some fifteen.
Some twelve.
The final envelope was dated three days before my mother's death.
I looked at Eleanor.
"Why didn't she receive them?"
"Your grandfather intercepted them."
I turned.
My grandfather's face collapsed.
"Emma..."
I stepped away.
"Don't."
"I was afraid."
"You keep saying that."
"I was trying to protect you."
"You destroyed my mother's chance to know the truth."
He lowered his head.
"I'm sorry."
I held the letters against my chest.
For the first time since my mother's death, I felt something other than grief.
I felt anger.
Grant stood quietly beside me.
"I need to tell you something."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"I knew Daniel was alive."
I froze.
"What?"
"I didn't know where."
"But you knew."
"Yes."
"When?"
"Before we married."
My chest tightened.
"How?"
"Cross told me."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because he threatened to kill you."
"Everyone used that excuse."
Grant looked at me.
"And I believed him."
"Why?"
"Because he had already killed someone I loved."
I stared.
"Who?"
"My brother."
Silence.
"Cross killed your brother?"
Grant nodded.
"And he told me I could either cooperate or lose you."
I whispered:
"So you married me to spy on me."
Grant's eyes filled with tears.
"At first."
I felt my heart harden.
"At first?"
"Then I fell in love with you."
I looked away.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
"You don't have to."
He stepped back.
"But I will help you find Elise."
Suddenly the hospital alarm sounded.
A security officer rushed in.
"Emma!"
"What?"
"We found a vehicle."
"Whose?"
He handed me a photograph.
A black sedan.
Parked behind the hospital.
The driver's door was open.
On the seat was a bloodstained envelope.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My mother's.
I opened it.
Inside was a single sentence.
If Daniel is alive, he will come for his children.
Then another line.
But he won't come alone.
I looked up.
"Who is with him?"
The officer shook his head.
"We don't know."
Then the lights flickered again.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice whispered:
"Emma."
My body froze.
"Who is this?"
Silence.
Then:
"I'm your father."
I couldn't breathe.
"Daniel?"
"Yes."
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Where is Elise?"
"With me."
My knees nearly gave out.
"Is she safe?"
"Yes."
"Give her to me."
"I will."
"When?"
"After you listen."
"Listen to what?"
A pause.
"The truth about your grandfather."
I looked toward the old man standing across the room.
Daniel continued:
"He didn't sell me to Cross."
I froze.
"What?"
"He sold me to someone else."
"Who?"
The line went silent.
Then my father whispered:
"Your grandmother."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
My grandfather looked at me.
"What happened?"
I couldn't speak.
Eleanor walked toward me.
"What did he say?"
I looked at her.
"He said you were wrong."
Her face changed.
"About what?"
"Everything."
I showed her the phone.
"He says Grandfather didn't sell him to Cross."
Eleanor stared at the screen.
"Then who?"
I looked toward my grandfather.
He was crying.
And for the first time, I saw something I had never seen in his eyes before.
Fear.
Not fear for me.
Fear of the truth.
I whispered:
"Grandmother."
My grandfather closed his eyes.
Eleanor stepped backward.
"No."
I looked at her.
"Yes."
"No."
"He said our grandmother sold him."
Eleanor shook her head.
"That's impossible."
Then Margaret spoke from behind us.
"No."
Everyone turned.
She smiled faintly.
"It's not impossible."
She looked directly at my grandfather.
"It's exactly what happened."
My grandfather's voice trembled.
"Margaret."
She answered:
"Twenty-nine years ago, your mother wasn't the only person who made a sacrifice."
She looked at me.
"Your grandfather sacrificed his son."
Then she looked toward Eleanor.
"And your grandmother sacrificed hers."
I stared at both women.
"Why?"
Margaret's smile disappeared.
"Because they were trying to create the perfect heir."
My blood ran cold.
"And did they succeed?"
Margaret looked toward the NICU.
At Noah.
Then at me.
"No."
She paused.
"They created something much more dangerous."
"What?"
Margaret whispered:
"They created a child who could expose everything."
I looked at the photograph of Noah.
My tiny son.
My innocent baby.
"Which child?"
Margaret didn't answer.
Then the hospital's emergency system suddenly announced:
UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS TO NICU LEVEL THREE.
Everyone froze.
A second announcement followed.
PATIENT ELISE WHITMORE — LOCATION CONFIRMED.
My heart stopped.
"Where?"
The system displayed a single location.
OLD MATERNITY WARD — BASEMENT LEVEL.
I looked at Grant.
Then Eleanor.
Then my grandfather.
And finally at the dark hallway.
My daughter was inside the hospital.
She had never been taken away.
Someone had hidden her beneath us.
And whoever had brought her there knew exactly where I would eventually look.
May you like
I started walking.
This time, nobody could stop me.
