Chapter 13 - Only One ChildThe countdown began.
Four minutes, fifty-nine seconds.
Everyone moved at once.
Mara grabbed weapons.
My father searched the room for another exit.
Clara ran toward the server rack.
My mother stood frozen.
I stared at the girls.
Ariel was crying.
The second girl wasn't.
She looked strangely calm.
“Mommy,” she said.
“Yes?”
“You have to choose.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You have to.”
“I won't choose.”
“They will choose for you.”
I looked at the countdown.
Four minutes.
My mother suddenly grabbed my face.
“Listen to me.”
I pulled away.
“No more lies.”
“I know.”
“Tell me everything.”
She nodded.
“The project requires one child to remain.”
“Why?”
“Because two memory carriers become unstable.”
“What happens?”
“They start sharing memories.”
“That sounds harmless.”
“It isn't.”
She looked at the second girl.
“They don't just share memories.”
“They merge.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“They become one personality.”
I looked at Ariel.
“No.”
My mother nodded.
“Your daughters are already beginning to merge.”
The second girl walked toward Ariel.
Ariel reached for her hand.
Then both girls spoke together.
“I remember.”
I felt sick.
“Remember what?”
Everything.
The girls began speaking.
They described places they'd never seen.
Names I'd never heard.
Dates.
Passwords.
Bank accounts.
Faces.
Murder scenes.
It was like listening to two tiny children recite the entire contents of a secret organization.
Then Ariel looked at me.
“They're coming.”
A deafening explosion rocked the chamber.
The ceiling cracked.
Soldiers descended through a breach.
Black uniforms.
Masks.
Weapons.
Mara fired.
My father returned fire.
Clara pulled me toward the exit.
“Run!”
We fled.
Glen grabbed Ariel.
The original Glen grabbed the second girl.
My mother stayed behind.
“MOM!”
She looked at me.
“Go!”
“You're coming.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“For once, I'm going to make the right choice.”
She turned toward the soldiers.
I heard gunfire.
I screamed.
Glen dragged me through the tunnel.
We reached the house.
The backyard was empty.
Birthday balloons floated in the pool.
A cake sat untouched on the table.
The entire afternoon felt like another lifetime.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
My own voice spoke.
“You have one daughter.”
I froze.
“What?”
“You always have.”
“Who are you?”
“Me.”
The voice laughed.
“The fourteen-year-old me.”
I looked at Ariel.
She stared at the phone.
Then whispered:
“That's Mommy.”
My blood ran cold.
The voice continued.
“Your sister was never meant to live.”
I looked at the second girl.
“Who are you?”
She didn't answer.
The voice on the phone did.
“She is the original archive.”
“What does that mean?”
“She contains everything.”
“Then why me?”
“Because you contain the key.”
I swallowed.
“What key?”
“The shutdown code.”
My heart stopped.
“Why haven't I remembered?”
“Because you buried it.”
“Where?”
The voice laughed.
“Where you buried your mother.”
My father appeared behind me.
He heard enough.
His face collapsed.
“No.”
I turned.
“Where did we bury Mom?”
He didn't answer.
I grabbed his shirt.
“WHERE?”
He whispered a location.
A place I'd never visited.
A place listed on my mother's death certificate.
I felt my stomach turn.
“She wasn't buried there.”
“No.”
“Then who is buried there?”
My father looked at the two girls.
“Nobody.”
A siren sounded in the distance.
Mara rushed out of the house.
“We have to go.”
“Where?”
She looked at me.
“To the grave.”
“The grave?”
“That's where the shutdown code is.”
I looked at Ariel.
Then at her twin.
Then at Glen.
The artificial Glen looked at me.
“I’m going with you.”
The original Glen shook his head.
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the real Glen left something there.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
May you like
“A goodbye.”
And then, for the first time, Glen began crying.
