Chapter 5 - I stared at the signature for a full ten seconds.Then I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the alternative was screaming.
“That isn't mine.”
Frank looked at me.
“It looks like yours.”
“I know my own signature.”
He opened another document.
Same signature.
Another.
Same.
Every page related to Project Noah carried my name.
I grabbed the folder.
“No.”
Frank looked around.
“We should leave.”
“No.”
“Sir, this could be evidence.”
“I don't care.”
I turned the pages faster.
Medical protocols.
Genetic screening.
Pharmaceutical studies.
Patient transfer forms.
Confidential agreements.
Most were too technical for me to understand.
But one phrase appeared repeatedly.
THERMAL REGULATION FAILURE.
My stomach dropped.
Emily had said the same thing.
“Frank.”
“Yes?”
“Call the hospital.”
“What?”
“Ask whether Noah has ever been treated for temperature instability.”
Frank made the call.
A minute later, he looked at me.
“No history.”
“Are you sure?”
“They checked his file.”
I looked at the documents.
Then noticed something.
A handwritten note.
Phase One complete.
Next to it was a date.
Six months ago.
Exactly when Noah was born.
I turned the page.
Phase Two begins at six months.
My hands started trembling.
Noah had turned six months old two days earlier.
The poisoning had happened tonight.
Phase Two.
Someone had been waiting.
Frank's phone rang.
He answered.
Then handed it to me.
It was the lead paramedic.
“We're heading toward the hospital.”
“Is Noah stable?”
A pause.
“Currently.”
“What does currently mean?”
“He's responding to treatment.”
I closed my eyes.
Relief hit me.
Then the medic continued.
“But we found something.”
“What?”
“There are puncture marks on his neck.”
I frowned.
“From what?”
“We don't know.”
Frank looked at me.
The medic continued.
“They weren't visible before.”
“Why?”
“Because they look like they were covered with some kind of adhesive.”
My chest tightened.
“Meaning someone injected him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't the paramedics notice?”
“They were extremely small.”
Emily had been right.
This wasn't a normal poisoning.
Someone had physically introduced the substance into Noah's body.
But how?
No one had left the nursery.
Except…
I stopped.
“The nanny.”
Frank turned.
“She said she prepared the bottle.”
“Exactly.”
We called the security team.
They found her in the guest wing.
She was sitting on the bed.
Crying.
When I entered, she looked up.
“Mr. Carter, I didn't do anything.”
I stared at her.
“Who prepared Noah's bottle?”
“I did.”
“Who entered the nursery?”
“No one.”
“That's impossible.”
She began shaking.
Then whispered:
“Someone called me.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“What did they say?”
“That I had to put something in the bottle.”
My blood froze.
“What something?”
She covered her face.
“I don't know.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because they showed me a photograph of my daughter.”
Silence.
“She's eight.”
The nanny started sobbing.
“They said if I didn't obey, she'd disappear.”
Frank stepped forward.
“Where did they tell you to get the substance?”
She pointed toward the kitchen.
“Under the sink.”
We searched.
Nothing.
Then Emily called.
I answered.
“Mr. Carter…”
“What?”
“Don't go to the hospital.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because I just found something.”
“What?”
Her voice trembled.
“The bloodwork.”
“What about it?”
“Noah's toxin levels aren't what they should be.”
I didn't understand.
“Explain.”
“This poison should cause respiratory collapse.”
“It almost did.”
“No.”
She inhaled sharply.
“It should have killed him.”
My stomach tightened.
“Then why is he alive?”
Silence.
“Emily?”
Her voice dropped.
“Because whoever poisoned him wasn't trying to kill him tonight.”
“What were they trying to do?”
She whispered:
“Activate something.”
The line went dead.
I called back.
No answer.
Then Frank shouted from across the room.
“Mr. Carter!”
I turned.
He was holding the nanny's phone.
A new message had arrived.
BRING THE GIRL TO THE BASEMENT.
Below it was a photograph.
The nanny's daughter.
May you like
Tied to a chair.
And behind the child stood a man wearing a blue circle pin.
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