Chapter 6 — Laura’s Warning
Chapter 6 — Laura’s Warning
“I did.”
Laura's words stayed in the air.
Three words.
Three words that changed everything my father had just told me.
I stared at my sister.
“You switched the babies?”
Laura didn't answer.
“Laura.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
Amy stood behind me, holding Frederick.
“Why?”
Laura looked at her.
“Because I had no choice.”
I almost laughed.
“No choice?”
“You had a choice.”
“You weren't there.”
“You don't know what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
She shook her head.
“Not here.”
I stepped closer.
“Here.”
She looked at the cemetery office.
“At least tell me whether Frederick is safe.”
Laura looked at him.
“For the moment.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone already knows where he is.”
I looked toward the windows.
“Who?”
“The people who have been searching for him.”
“The Consortium?”
Laura nodded.
“They know M-17 survived.”
“Do they know it's Frederick?”
“They know the child is in Nashville.”
My blood ran cold.
“Because of you?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
Laura looked at the cassette.
“Because your father left too many traces.”
We left the cemetery through the rear entrance.
The police escort moved first.
Amy held Frederick tightly.
Laura followed us.
I kept looking behind me.
Every passing car made my pulse jump.
When we reached the SUV, Laura stopped.
“Don't go home.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Don't go to the hospital.”
“Why?”
“Someone has access to the hospital system.”
I looked at Amy.
She understood immediately.
“The missing records.”
“Yes.”
Laura nodded.
“They weren't erased.”
“They were moved.”
“Where?”
“To a private server.”
“Whose?”
“Teresa's.”
I felt sick.
“My mother has a private medical database?”
“Not just medical records.”
“What else?”
“DNA.”
I stared at her.
“How much?”
“Enough to identify every person in the M-17 program.”
“Then why hasn't she used it?”
Laura's face hardened.
“She has.”
“For what?”
“To find the other children.”
I looked at Frederick.
“How many has she found?”
“Three.”
My heart stopped.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
Laura didn't answer.
“Laura.”
She looked at me.
“They're dead.”
Amy gasped.
I felt the world go silent.
“Three children?”
“Three.”
“Teresa killed them?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Laura whispered:
“The Consortium.”
The drive to the safe house took an hour.
We didn't speak.
Frederick slept.
Amy sat beside him.
Laura watched the road.
I sat in the front.
My mind kept returning to the same question.
Why would my sister switch four babies?
And why had my father claimed he did it?
Unless both were telling the truth.
Unless my father had taken responsibility for what Laura had done.
That possibility frightened me more than anything.
Because it meant he had spent twenty-five years protecting her.
From my mother.
From Richard.
From the Consortium.
And from me.
The safe house was an old farmhouse outside the city.
It belonged to one of my father's former employees.
The police checked every room.
Windows.
Doors.
Basement.
Attic.
Nothing.
Only then did we relax.
Amy placed Frederick in a crib.
He opened his eyes.
“Da-da.”
I smiled.
“I'm here.”
Laura stood in the doorway.
She watched us.
“You love him.”
It wasn't a question.
“Yes.”
“Even after what I told you?”
“He's my son.”
She nodded.
“Your father knew you'd say that.”
I looked at her.
“What else did he know?”
“That you would eventually hate him.”
“Do you?”
She looked away.
“Every day.”
“Why?”
“Because he made me choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Which child would live.”
I froze.
“What?”
Laura sat down.
She looked exhausted.
“Twenty-five years ago, the Consortium discovered four newborns carrying M-17.”
“The four babies.”
“Yes.”
“They wanted all four.”
“Yes.”
“Your father tried to stop them.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Your father wanted to save all four.”
“Then what happened?”
“The Consortium gave him a choice.”
I felt cold.
“What choice?”
“Give them one child.”
“And they'll leave the other three alone?”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“They said if they couldn't have all four, they'd kill the families.”
I stared.
“So what did he do?”
“He asked me to help him.”
“That's why you switched them.”
“Yes.”
“But you said you chose which child would live.”
Laura closed her eyes.
“I chose Frederick.”
“Why him?”
“Because he was the only one whose parents were already dead.”
My stomach turned.
“You knew his parents?”
“Yes.”
“Who were they?”
“Ethan and Maria Hart.”
I remembered the company.
Hart Medical Consulting.
Samuel.
The Hart bloodline.
“Samuel is related to Frederick.”
Laura nodded.
“He was Maria's brother.”
I sat down.
“So Samuel isn't protecting us because of my father.”
“No.”
“He's protecting Frederick because he's his family.”
“Yes.”
That changed everything.
Amy walked into the room.
“Then why didn't you tell us?”
Laura looked at her.
“Because every time I tried, someone died.”
Amy's voice broke.
“Who?”
“Ethan.”
“Maria.”
“One of the doctors.”
“Two nurses.”
“Your father.”
I stared.
“My father wasn't killed by the Consortium?”
“He was.”
“How?”
“They sabotaged his car.”
“And Teresa?”
“Teresa knew.”
My fists clenched.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“And she did nothing?”
“She was terrified.”
“That doesn't excuse her.”
“No.”
Laura looked at me.
“It doesn't.”
I wanted to hate everyone.
My mother.
My father.
Laura.
Richard.
The Consortium.
Everyone who had touched my son's life before he could even speak.
But one thought kept returning.
My father had chosen me.
Not because I was special.
Because I was ordinary.
Because nobody would suspect me.
Because I loved Frederick without needing his blood to prove anything.
That was the one thing they couldn't control.
At 4:00 p.m., Samuel arrived.
He entered the farmhouse carrying a folder.
He looked at Laura.
“You told him.”
She nodded.
Samuel looked at me.
“Everything?”
“Not everything.”
He put the folder down.
“Then we have a problem.”
“What?”
“The Consortium knows Laura is alive.”
My heart tightened.
“How?”
“They found one of her old medical records.”
“Where?”
“At the hospital.”
The same hospital.
I felt sick.
“They're coming here.”
Samuel shook his head.
“No.”
He opened the folder.
“They already came.”
Inside were photographs.
Our house.
The hospital.
The cemetery.
The farmhouse.
Photos taken within the last twenty-four hours.
I stared.
“How?”
“Drone.”
“When?”
“An hour ago.”
I looked at the windows.
“Then we need to leave.”
Samuel nodded.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
He turned the folder over.
A second document was attached.
A list of names.
Four children.
Three marked:
DECEASED.
One:
ACTIVE.
Beside the active child was a name.
FREDERICK BRADLEY.
Underneath:
LOCATION UNKNOWN.
I looked at Samuel.
“They don't know he's here.”
“No.”
“Then why are we still here?”
“Because they don't need to know.”
He pointed to another line.
M-17 CARRIER: CONFIRMED.
My blood ran cold.
“They know he's the carrier.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Samuel looked at Laura.
“She told them.”
Laura shook her head.
“No.”
Samuel's expression hardened.
“You were the only person who knew the final location.”
“I never told them.”
“Then someone else did.”
I looked at the list.
A name had been added at the bottom.
INTERNAL SOURCE: BRADLEY FAMILY.
My heart stopped.
“Someone inside my family is working with them.”
Samuel nodded.
“Yes.”
I called Daniel Mercer.
He answered immediately.
“Connor.”
“Did you know about M-17?”
Silence.
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Twenty years.”
My blood ran cold.
“Did you know about Frederick?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
I stood.
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
“Are you working with the Consortium?”
“No.”
“Then why did they know about my son?”
“I don't know.”
I heard movement on his end.
“Daniel?”
His voice dropped.
“Connor, listen to me.”
“What?”
“Don't trust anyone.”
“That's what everyone keeps telling me.”
“I'm serious.”
“Who should I trust?”
He didn't answer.
“Daniel.”
“Your wife.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Trust Amy.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Amy looked at me.
“What did he say?”
I didn't answer.
Because another thought had entered my mind.
Why had Daniel specifically told me to trust Amy?
Was he warning me?
Or was he trying to make me suspicious of everyone else?
That night, Frederick developed another fever.
Amy stayed beside him.
I sat outside the room with Laura.
“You knew about the children.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my father was protecting them.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Teresa was involved.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Frederick was alive.”
“Yes.”
“And you watched me grow up without telling me I had a sister.”
Laura looked at me.
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You could have trusted me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you were a child.”
“I was twenty-two when Dad died.”
“And that's when you became the target.”
“What target?”
She leaned forward.
“Your father left you something.”
“The trust?”
“No.”
“The foundation?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Laura whispered:
“The database.”
I stared.
“My father left me the database?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He left you the key.”
“To what?”
“To every M-17 record in existence.”
I felt cold.
“Where is it?”
She looked toward Frederick's room.
“With your son.”
I frowned.
“How?”
“He was born carrying it.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
Laura reached into her coat.
She pulled out a small blue bracelet.
My heart stopped.
It was identical to the one Frederick had worn since birth.
She placed it on the table.
“This is not a bracelet.”
I stared.
“Then what is it?”
“A key.”
I picked it up.
It looked ordinary.
Soft blue fabric.
A tiny silver clasp.
Nothing more.
Laura pointed to the clasp.
“Open it.”
I did.
Inside was a tiny metal chip.
I stared.
“What is this?”
“Your father's encryption key.”
My hands shook.
“What does it unlock?”
“The original M-17 database.”
“Where is the database?”
Laura looked at me.
“Buried beneath your house.”
I froze.
“My house?”
“Yes.”
“The house my mother tried to take?”
“Yes.”
“The house that belongs to Frederick?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father knew Teresa would never suspect that the key to the Consortium's greatest secret was sitting underneath the property she was trying to steal.”
I looked toward the window.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The trust.
The house.
The birthday party.
The money.
The custody plan.
My mother didn't just want the property.
She wanted what was underneath it.
But then I remembered something.
The basement.
The metal cabinet.
The files.
I hadn't found a database.
Only documents.
I looked at Laura.
“Where?”
“Under the foundation.”
“How do we get there?”
“There's a tunnel.”
“Where does it start?”
She pointed toward the old farmhouse.
“Here.”
I stared at her.
“You're telling me there's a tunnel from this property to my house?”
“Yes.”
“How long is it?”
“Almost four miles.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“My father built a four-mile tunnel?”
“Not your father.”
“Then who?”
Laura's expression changed.
“Your grandfather.”
We left before dawn.
The tunnel entrance was hidden beneath a concrete slab behind the farmhouse.
Samuel opened it.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
I looked at Amy.
She held Frederick.
“You don't have to come.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, I do.”
We descended.
The tunnel was old.
Concrete walls.
Rusting pipes.
Flickering emergency lights.
After almost an hour, we reached a steel door.
The blue chip unlocked it.
Inside was a room filled with computers.
Old servers.
Hard drives.
Files.
Photographs.
Names.
Thousands of them.
I walked toward the largest screen.
It turned on automatically.
A message appeared.
WELCOME, CONNOR BRADLEY.
I froze.
Then another line.
GENETIC ARCHIVE: M-17.
Amy stood beside me.
Laura looked terrified.
Samuel whispered:
“Your father wasn't protecting the database.”
I turned.
“What?”
“He was protecting you from it.”
The screen changed.
A list appeared.
Four original carriers.
Three:
DECEASED.
One:
FREDERICK BRADLEY.
Then another file opened.
BIOLOGICAL PARENTS.
The names appeared.
ETHAN HART.
MARIA HART.
Amy covered her mouth.
I stared at the screen.
Then another line appeared.
LEGAL FATHER: CONNOR BRADLEY.
I closed my eyes.
My father had been telling the truth.
Frederick wasn't my biological son.
But he was my son.
And the database proved it.
Then the final file opened.
PROJECT DIRECTOR.
A name appeared.
I stopped breathing.
Not Richard Hale.
Not Teresa.
Not my grandfather.
A name I knew.
A name that had been beside me throughout this entire investigation.
I stared at the screen.
“No.”
Laura whispered:
“Connor…”
The name remained.
DANIEL MERCER.
My attorney.
My father's lawyer.
The man who had been helping me uncover the truth.
The man I had trusted.
The man who had just told me to trust Amy.
And beneath his name was one final line:
CURRENT STATUS: ACTIVE.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered.
He didn't say hello.
He only whispered:
“You found the database.”
I looked at the screen.
“How long have you been working for them?”
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
“Long enough to know that if you stay in that room…”
A pause.
“…your son will never see his second birthday.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Amy.
At Laura.
At Samuel.
Then at the database.
May you like
And suddenly, the greatest danger wasn't outside the tunnel.
It was the man who had been guiding us toward it from the beginning.
