CHAPTER 12 THE GIRL IN THE DARK
“Daddy.”
The voice came again.
Small.
Shaky.
Almost swallowed by the darkness.
I couldn't move.
Lena grabbed my arm.
“Adrian…”
I barely heard her.
My eyes remained fixed on the little figure standing at the end of the corridor.
A girl.
Maybe ten years old.
Long dark hair.
Pale face.
Bare feet.
And in her hands was a photograph of me.
My photograph.
The one from my wedding day.
The girl took one step forward.
“Daddy?”
My heart nearly stopped.
I stepped toward her.
“Emma?”
She nodded.
Lena collapsed against the wall.
“Oh my God.”
The girl looked at her.
“Mom?”
Lena covered her mouth.
Tears streamed down her face.
“Emma…”
The girl ran toward her.
Lena dropped to her knees and pulled her into her arms.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
They simply held each other.
Then Emma looked at me.
I knelt.
She hesitated.
I opened my arms.
She slowly walked into them.
The moment I held her, something inside me broke.
She was real.
Warm.
Alive.
My daughter.
The child I had buried in my mind for ten years.
I closed my eyes.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I know.”
“Who told you that?”
“Victor.”
I looked at her.
“Where have you been?”
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she whispered:
“Watching you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“From far away.”
“Who made you watch me?”
“Everyone.”
“Who is everyone?”
She looked over my shoulder.
“Victor.”
I pulled her closer.
“He hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“He threatened you?”
“No.”
“Then what did he do?”
Emma looked at Lily.
Then at the bracelet.
“He taught me.”
“To do what?”
“To protect my brother.”
I froze.
“Which brother?”
She looked toward the phone still in my hand.
“Noah.”
My heart stopped.
“You know Noah?”
She nodded.
“We grew up together.”
“Where?”
“Blackwater.”
I stared at her.
“How?”
“Victor brought him there when he was four.”
I looked at Lena.
She was crying.
Emma continued.
“They told me he was my little brother.”
“Was he?”
“I don't know.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She pointed at Lily.
“They told me Lily was my sister too.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
Emma nodded.
“We were all there.”
Three children.
Noah.
Emma.
Lily.
Together.
Inside Blackwater.
I looked at my daughter.
“But Lily was living with us.”
Emma shook her head.
“Not all the time.”
I turned toward Lena.
“What is she talking about?”
Lena looked terrified.
“I don't know.”
Emma said quietly:
“You do.”
Lena stared at her.
Then something changed in her face.
A memory.
She pressed both hands against her temples.
“I remember…”
“What?”
“A room.”
“Where?”
“Blackwater.”
She began trembling.
“There were three beds.”
I stepped closer.
“What else?”
“Three children.”
“Who?”
“You.”
She pointed at Emma.
“Noah.”
Then Lily.
“Lily.”
My stomach dropped.
“You saw all three?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lena began crying.
“They told me I had to choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Which child came home.”
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“You chose?”
“I don't remember.”
Emma interrupted.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
Emma looked at Lena.
“You chose Noah.”
Lena broke down.
“I didn't know!”
“You did.”
“I was drugged!”
“I know.”
“I was terrified!”
“I know.”
“I thought they were going to kill all of you.”
Emma's expression softened.
“They almost did.”
I stared at her.
“What happened?”
Emma looked down.
“They took me away.”
“Why?”
“Because I remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
She looked at Lily.
“That we weren't supposed to be three.”
My blood froze.
“What does that mean?”
Emma reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper.
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
It was a laboratory report.
Three genetic profiles.
A.
B.
C.
The names had been blacked out.
But beneath them was a handwritten note.
ONLY TWO ARE NATURAL.
I looked at Emma.
“What does this mean?”
She whispered:
“Lily wasn't born in the hospital.”
Lena stared at her.
“No.”
Emma nodded.
“They brought her there.”
I looked at Lily.
My eight-year-old daughter was standing silently beside my mother.
I couldn't breathe.
“What are you saying?”
Emma answered:
“Lily was born at Blackwater.”
My father stepped backward.
“No.”
Emma looked at him.
“You knew.”
Jonathan shook his head.
“I didn't.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“You visited us.”
My father went pale.
“What?”
Emma pointed toward him.
“You came to the facility.”
“When?”
“After Lily was born.”
I turned toward my father.
“Dad?”
He didn't answer.
“Did you visit Blackwater?”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
My heart sank.
“What did you see?”
He whispered:
“The children.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Who was the third?”
He looked at Lily.
“I don't know.”
Emma spoke.
“She wasn't the third.”
Everyone froze.
“Then who was?”
Emma looked at me.
“The third child disappeared.”
I felt cold.
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know his name.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Boy.”
My father suddenly looked terrified.
“A boy?”
Emma nodded.
“Baby.”
I stared at her.
“Where did he go?”
“They said he died.”
My father whispered:
“No.”
I turned.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“I remember that baby.”
“Who was he?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then why are you afraid?”
My father looked toward the floor.
“Because I saw the file.”
“What file?”
“The birth registry.”
I waited.
He finally said:
“The baby was listed as…”
He stopped.
“Say it.”
His voice barely escaped.
“Jonathan Cole.”
I froze.
“My name?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Your father's name.”
I stared at him.
“My grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It shouldn't.”
Emma suddenly grabbed my hand.
“Daddy.”
“What?”
“You have to leave.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the warehouse entrance.
“Because they know I'm here.”
Marcus immediately checked the cameras.
Nothing.
No movement.
Then every screen flickered.
A single image appeared.
Victor.
He was standing in front of Noah.
But Noah wasn't alone.
A man stood behind him.
An elderly man.
White hair.
Dark suit.
My grandfather's face.
Elias Cole.
I stared at the screen.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Adrian.”
I stepped closer.
“What do you want?”
Elias smiled.
“Your daughter.”
I held Emma tighter.
“No.”
“She belongs to the family.”
“She belongs to me.”
“She belongs to the bloodline.”
“She belongs to herself.”
Elias laughed.
“Your father said the same thing.”
I looked at Jonathan.
Elias continued:
“Then he lost his first son.”
My father's face went pale.
“You took him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To see whether the bloodline could survive without him.”
I felt rage rise.
“You stole my brother.”
Elias smiled.
“I created him.”
“No.”
“You were raised believing you were Adrian.”
“You were told your brother was dead.”
“You were taught to hate Victor.”
“But Victor wasn't the architect.”
I stared at the screen.
“Then who was?”
Elias smiled.
“Me.”
The screen changed.
A document appeared.
At the top:
PROJECT COLE: ORIGINAL DESIGN
Underneath were photographs.
My grandfather.
Victor.
Jonathan.
My mother.
Lena.
Alexander.
Me.
Noah.
Lily.
Emma.
Then another photograph appeared.
A baby.
The same baby from the hospital file.
Elias said:
“That child is the reason your family has been fighting for twenty-seven years.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Who is he?”
Elias smiled.
“Your grandfather's final heir.”
“Where is he?”
A pause.
“Closer than you think.”
The screen went black.
Then a new message appeared.
LOOK AT YOUR SON.
My blood froze.
I looked at Noah's last photograph on my phone.
Then I noticed something.
His hospital bracelet.
The date.
The initials.
The tiny letters I had ignored for years.
N.C.
But underneath them was another marking.
A black circle.
Three vertical lines.
The same symbol from the vehicles.
The same symbol on Lily's bracelet.
I turned toward Emma.
“What does that symbol mean?”
She whispered:
“It means original blood.”
I looked at Lily.
Then at Emma.
Then at the screen.
My father's voice trembled.
“Adrian…”
“What?”
He pointed toward the photograph of the baby.
“The baby isn't your grandfather's heir.”
I stared at him.
“Then whose?”
He looked at me.
“Yours.”
I couldn't speak.
“My son?”
“No.”
He swallowed.
“Your father.”
I stared at him.
“My father?”
Jonathan nodded.
“The baby in that photograph…”
He took a step backward.
“…was me.”
The room fell silent.
My father looked at the screen.
Elias smiled.
Then the speakers crackled.
“Now you understand, Adrian.”
I stared at the photograph.
My father had been the missing child.
The original heir.
The child everyone believed had died.
But if that was true…
Who was the man standing beside me?
Jonathan slowly whispered:
“I've spent my whole life believing I was your father.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“But I wasn't.”
I felt the world tilt.
“What are you saying?”
He pointed at Elias.
“He was.”
I stared at the screen.
Elias smiled.
And then he said the words that shattered everything I had left:
“Adrian…”
May you like
“You're not my grandson.”
“You're my son.”
