Chapter 5 - The Other ConnorNobody spoke for nearly a minute.
I couldn't look away from the photograph.
The boy standing beside Dr. Voss had my face.
Not similar.
Not close.
Identical.
It was like looking into a mirror that had been taken seventeen years into the future.
“Who is he?” I whispered.
Margaret's hands were shaking.
“I don't know.”
Dad grabbed the photograph.
“Where was this taken?”
“St. Matthew's Research Center.”
“That place closed.”
“It reopened.”
Mom stood.
“No.”
Margaret looked at her.
“Sarah, you knew this day would come.”
My mother started sobbing.
“What day?”
Mom wouldn't answer.
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Everyone looked at me.
“I want the truth.”
My mother finally raised her eyes.
“You were born with another baby.”
“My twin.”
“Yes.”
“What was his name?”
Mom couldn't speak.
Dad answered.
“Evan.”
I frowned.
“Evan Hayes?”
“No.”
Dad looked away.
“Evan was never registered as a Hayes.”
“Then what was his name?”
Dad whispered:
“Connor.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“He was Connor.”
I stared.
Dad continued.
“We were told one of you had to be given a different identity.”
“Why?”
“Because one child was healthy.”
“And the other?”
Dad swallowed.
“Different.”
I didn't understand.
“Different how?”
Margaret stepped forward.
“Your brother was stronger.”
“What does that mean?”
“He had a rare genetic mutation.”
That sounded absurd.
I laughed.
“What kind of mutation?”
Margaret looked at Mom.
“Your mother worked with Dr. Voss.”
I froze.
“My mom?”
Mom closed her eyes.
“I was a research assistant.”
“Researching what?”
“Regeneration.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
Margaret continued.
“They believed certain genetic traits could accelerate tissue repair.”
I stared at her.
“You experimented on babies?”
Mom broke down.
“Not at first.”
Dad looked furious.
“Sarah was told the program was ethical.”
“And was it?”
“No.”
Margaret's voice became quiet.
“They started experimenting on your twin.”
I felt sick.
“What did they do?”
“We don't know all of it.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
She looked at the photograph.
“But I know this.”
“What?”
“The boy in that photograph isn't your twin.”
I stared at her.
“Then who is he?”
Margaret took a breath.
“He's a copy.”
The room went silent.
Dad whispered:
“They did it.”
“Did what?”
Margaret looked directly into my eyes.
“They cloned your brother.”
My knees almost gave out.
“No.”
“That's impossible.”
“That's what we believed.”
She pointed at the photograph.
“Then how do you explain him?”
I couldn't.
My mind was screaming for logic.
Dad picked up the metal box.
“We need to leave.”
Margaret shook her head.
“Too late.”
“What do you mean?”
She pointed outside.
Several black vehicles were approaching the farmhouse.
Mom whispered:
“They found us.”
Margaret stared at me.
“No.”
She looked terrified.
“They didn't find us.”
She looked at my father.
“They followed him.”
Dad's face changed.
“Who?”
Margaret pointed at me.
“The boy in the photograph.”
Outside, a car door slammed.
Then another.
A voice shouted:
“Connor Hayes!”
I looked through the window.
A teenager stood beneath the porch light.
My face.
My eyes.
My exact face.
May you like
He stared directly at me.
Then he smiled.
