Chapter 10 - The ChoiceDaniel finally explained what “harvested” meant.
Not death.
Not exactly.
Emily's biological samples contained a rare genetic expression.
The company wanted to isolate it.
The treatment would require tissue extraction.
Repeated procedures.
Possibly surgery.
And no one could guarantee what damage the process would cause.
I felt sick.
“They're experimenting on her.”
“Yes.”
“Can they legally do this?”
“Not without consent.”
“Mark signed for it.”
“Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
Daniel handed me a document.
“Your mother revoked the agreement before she disappeared.”
I stared at the signature.
“Elena Whitman.”
The document had been hidden for fifteen years.
Mark had concealed the revocation.
But there was something else.
A second signature.
Mine.
I stared.
“I never signed this.”
Daniel looked at the page.
“I know.”
“Then who did?”
He didn't answer.
I already knew.
Someone had forged my signature.
Someone had created a medical authorization in my name.
Someone had planned for this moment long before Emily got sick.
We tracked the research company's private facility.
Mark was there.
So was Dr. Vance.
And Emily.
We contacted federal authorities.
But before they could enter, Mark called me.
“Don't come here.”
“I know where you are.”
“You don't understand.”
“Release Emily.”
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“They will kill me.”
“Let them.”
Silence.
“You still love me.”
I almost vomited.
“I loved the man I thought you were.”
“I never wanted this.”
“You chose it.”
“I chose you.”
“No.”
“You were supposed to be safe.”
“And Emily?”
“She was never part of the original plan.”
“Then why did you bring her here?”
“Because the company found out her symptoms were progressing.”
“After five weeks of you doing nothing.”
“I was trying to delay them.”
“You delayed her treatment.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mark whispered:
“Because I knew what they would do.”
There was silence.
Then he said:
“I thought I could get you both out.”
“Where?”
“Canada.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because they were monitoring you.”
“Since when?”
“Since before we married.”
Everything inside me shattered again.
“Did you ever love me?”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
That made it worse.
“I loved you,” he said. “But I also watched you.”
I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Who is Dr. Vance really?”
Mark went silent.
“Tell me.”
“She’s the person who controls the trust.”
“What trust?”
“The money.”
“What money?”
“The money your mother left.”
I felt cold.
My mother had left me an inheritance.
I'd assumed there was nothing.
Mark continued:
“She put everything into a protected trust.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-two million dollars.”
My knees weakened.
“What?”
“That's what the company wanted.”
I understood.
They hadn't only targeted our genetics.
They had targeted our family wealth.
My mother had known.
She had tried to protect me.
Mark had married me.
And our daughter had become collateral.
Then the call ended.
Police moved in.
We reached the facility minutes later.
I saw Emily through a glass window.
She was sitting in a chair.
An IV in her arm.
Her eyes met mine.
Mom.
I slammed my hand against the glass.
“Emily!”
Dr. Vance turned.
She smiled.
Then she held up a folder.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Emily's birth certificate.
Except the name listed under father was not Mark Whitman.
It was someone else.
May you like
I looked closer.
And recognized the name.
