Chapter 7 - I wanted to hit him.Instead, I asked the only question that mattered.
“What do you mean?”
Richard Vale looked at Noah's file.
“Your son was conceived under circumstances your mother spent years trying to manipulate.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
He reached inside his jacket.
Frank aimed his weapon.
Richard slowly removed a small envelope.
He placed it on the table.
“Your mother knew about Project Noah.”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter.
My mother's handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
Ethan,
If you are reading this, then the doctors failed to stop the second phase.
My breathing changed.
I continued.
Do not trust anyone who tells you Noah is sick naturally.
Do not trust the hospital.
Do not trust the man who claims to protect you.
And above all, do not trust the maid.
I stopped.
Slowly looked at Emily.
She had heard me read it.
Her face went white.
Richard smiled faintly.
“She was your mother's greatest fear.”
Emily stepped backward.
“No.”
I stared at her.
“What did my mother know about you?”
“She was afraid of me.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Richard interrupted.
“She knows.”
Emily shook her head.
“You're lying.”
Richard turned toward her.
“Ask her about Daniel.”
Emily froze.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Richard continued.
“Ask her why Daniel was killed.”
“Stop.”
“Ask her what happened in the Blue Room.”
Emily's hands clenched.
“Stop!”
Frank stepped between them.
“What is the Blue Room?”
Nobody answered.
Then Richard pulled another photograph from the envelope.
A much younger Emily.
Standing in front of a blue door.
She was maybe eighteen.
Beside her stood Daniel.
But there was someone else.
A woman in a white medical coat.
My mother.
Emily whispered:
“I was a patient.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“I wasn't the maid then.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I was part of a clinical trial.”
Richard nodded.
“You were.”
“What trial?”
Emily looked down.
“Thermal regulation.”
I remembered Noah's files.
Her brother.
The poison.
The warming blankets.
Everything connected.
“What happened?”
Emily swallowed.
“They gave us something.”
“What?”
“A drug that altered how the body responded to temperature.”
“For what?”
“We weren't told.”
“And Daniel?”
“He reacted badly.”
“What happened?”
“He died.”
“After the trial?”
“No.”
Emily looked at me.
“He died after he escaped.”
The basement seemed colder.
Richard stepped closer.
“Daniel discovered the trial wasn't testing a drug.”
“Then what?”
“The researchers were testing people.”
“For what?”
Richard said:
“Whether the human body could be conditioned to survive controlled physiological collapse.”
I stared.
“And Noah?”
Richard's face became grim.
“Noah is the next generation.”
I couldn't speak.
Richard continued.
“Your son inherited something.”
“What?”
“A genetic marker.”
“From me?”
“No.”
He looked at Emily.
“From her.”
Silence.
Emily shook her head.
“That's impossible.”
Richard handed me another report.
I read the first page.
Emily Parker.
DNA comparison.
Noah Carter.
Match.
Not a full family match.
Something stranger.
A genetic sequence.
Thirty-seven percent similarity.
“What am I looking at?”
Richard whispered:
“Your son carries a modified sequence from the original trial.”
I looked at Emily.
Her face had collapsed.
“I didn't give him that.”
Richard nodded.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Your wife did.”
I froze.
“My wife?”
Richard smiled.
“Now you understand why she died.”
My entire body went numb.
My wife had died during childbirth.
Everyone had told me it was a hemorrhage.
But Richard had just changed the meaning of that memory.
I turned toward him.
“You're saying my wife was murdered?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
Richard didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at the basement door.
“Someone is coming.”
Heavy footsteps echoed above us.
Frank raised his weapon.
Richard whispered:
“Too late.”
The door burst open.
A tactical team entered.
At the front stood Dr. Victor Hale.
The doctor from Noah's hospital room.
He looked at me.
Then at Emily.
May you like
Then smiled.
“Project Noah has entered Phase Three.”
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