Chapter 9: Project Echo
The rain became heavier as we drove toward my mother's house.
I held the cassette in my hand.
A small piece of plastic.
Nothing more.
Yet everyone in the car looked at it as though it contained a bomb.
Maybe it did.
Nathan sat in the back seat, silent.
Adrian drove with both hands gripping the steering wheel.
I stared at the darkness beyond the windshield.
My mind kept returning to Marcus's voice.
Claire was never the target.
You were.
Why me?
What had my father done to me?
What was Project Echo?
And why did an eight-year-old boy know things about the night I was born?
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
“Stop the car.”
Adrian glanced at me.
“Why?”
“I need answers.”
“You'll get them.”
“Not later.”
“Daniel—”
“Stop.”
He pulled onto the shoulder.
The engine remained running.
I turned toward him.
“You said Project Echo was the reason Dad faked his death.”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
Adrian looked at Nathan.
Nathan shook his head.
“Tell him.”
Adrian sighed.
“Project Echo was a genetic memory experiment.”
I stared at him.
“Genetic memory isn't like a recording.”
“Your father knew that.”
“Then what did he believe?”
“He believed trauma could leave biological markers.”
I frowned.
“And?”
“He wanted to know whether those markers could be deliberately created.”
My stomach tightened.
“By doing what?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Nathan did.
“By exposing children to controlled trauma.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
“You're saying Dad hurt children.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
Nathan looked away.
“We don't know.”
“Did he hurt us?”
Adrian said quietly,
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than I expected.
I closed my eyes.
Fragments appeared.
A bright white room.
Metal.
A needle.
My father's voice.
A child crying.
Then nothing.
I opened my eyes.
“I remember something.”
Adrian turned toward me.
“What?”
“A room.”
He nodded.
“Keep going.”
“White walls.”
“Yes.”
“A woman was screaming.”
Adrian's face changed.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“There was a baby.”
Nathan whispered,
“Lucas.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It wasn't Lucas.”
Adrian stared at me.
“Then who?”
“I don't know.”
Another memory surfaced.
A red emergency light.
My father shouting:
“Take him away!”
A man's voice answering:
“He's the wrong one.”
Then a gunshot.
I opened my eyes.
Nathan was staring at me.
“What?”
He looked terrified.
“You remember.”
“Remember what?”
“The night Adrian disappeared.”
I looked at Adrian.
He had stopped breathing.
“What happened?”
Adrian stared at the road.
“Our father tried to exchange us.”
“For what?”
“For Marcus's son.”
I frowned.
“Marcus had a son?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Adrian looked at me.
“You.”
The word made no sense.
“I don't understand.”
“Neither did I.”
He started driving again.
“My mother believed I was Marcus's son.”
“Was she wrong?”
“We don't know.”
“But Marcus said I'm his.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he may be telling the truth.”
I looked at Nathan.
“Do you know who our biological father is?”
Nathan swallowed.
“Not for certain.”
“Then how did Dad raise us?”
“He raised you because he chose to.”
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
Nathan leaned forward.
“It's the only answer I have.”
We reached my mother's house at 12:38 a.m.
The front door was open.
Again.
I looked at Adrian.
“Trap.”
“Definitely.”
Nathan checked his weapon.
“Then we don't go inside.”
I opened the car door.
“We're going inside.”
Adrian grabbed my arm.
“You're walking into the place where your mother almost had your wife killed.”
“Exactly.”
I stepped out.
The house was dark.
No lights.
No sound.
We entered.
The living room was exactly as I had left it.
Except the coffin was gone.
The flowers remained.
Wilted.
I walked toward the fireplace.
There was a cassette player on the table.
Already connected.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
PLAY IT ALONE.
Adrian stared at it.
“No.”
I picked up the cassette.
“It's what Marcus wants us to find.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Or what Dad wants us to hear.”
I inserted it.
Pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then my father's voice.
Older.
Tired.
“If this recording is playing, then Daniel has discovered Project Echo.”
I froze.
My father's voice continued.
“I need to explain what I did.”
A long pause.
“I failed.”
The recording crackled.
“I believed I could protect my children by controlling what they remembered.”
I stared at Adrian.
My father continued.
“Daniel and Adrian were born minutes apart.”
“Daniel was the stronger child.”
“Adrian was more sensitive to external stimuli.”
My stomach tightened.
“Neither child was supposed to be separated.”
“But Marcus demanded one.”
The tape became distorted.
I leaned closer.
“Marcus believed one of the boys carried a genetic trait that could be used to predict inherited neurological responses.”
Adrian whispered,
“That's it.”
My father's voice continued.
“I refused.”
“Marcus threatened my family.”
“I agreed to give him Adrian.”
Adrian's face went white.
The recording continued.
“But before the exchange could happen, Claire discovered the clinic.”
I stopped breathing.
“She was pregnant.”
“She discovered that Nathan had been moving company funds.”
“She also discovered the truth about Project Echo.”
My father's voice became quieter.
“I begged her to stay silent.”
“She refused.”
I looked at Nathan.
His face was rigid.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
“Claire's unborn child was the only person capable of exposing what we had done.”
The tape crackled.
“So I made a decision.”
“I altered the records.”
“I erased Adrian's identity.”
“I changed Daniel's medical history.”
“And I arranged for Claire to marry Daniel.”
I felt sick.
“You used me.”
My father's recorded voice continued.
“I believed Daniel would protect Claire and the child without ever knowing why.”
The tape clicked.
Then another voice appeared.
Marcus.
My skin prickled.
“You betrayed me.”
My father's voice answered.
“I saved my son.”
Marcus laughed.
“You saved the wrong one.”
A gunshot sounded.
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then I heard footsteps upstairs.
Adrian raised his weapon.
Nathan turned toward the hallway.
“Someone's here.”
A light switched on.
My mother stood at the top of the stairs.
She was holding Claire's hospital bracelet.
“You finally heard it.”
I looked at her.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Dad used me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Claire was part of this.”
“Yes.”
I stepped toward her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father was right about one thing.”
“What?”
“You would have gone after Marcus.”
“I should have.”
My mother shook her head.
“You don't understand who Marcus is.”
“Then explain.”
She slowly descended the stairs.
“Marcus isn't just a businessman.”
“Then what is he?”
She looked at Adrian.
“Your brother knows.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No.”
My mother continued.
“Marcus created Project Echo.”
I looked at Adrian.
“Dad only helped him.”
My mother's voice broke.
“Your father wasn't the mastermind.”
Silence.
“He was trying to stop it.”
I stared at her.
“Then why did he participate?”
“Because he was afraid.”
“Of Marcus?”
She nodded.
“Marcus had something over him.”
“What?”
My mother looked directly at me.
“You.”
I frowned.
“What did he have?”
She hesitated.
Then said:
“Your birth records.”
I didn't understand.
She continued.
“Marcus knew you weren't biologically related to your father.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who is my father?”
My mother looked at Adrian.
“That's the question your father died trying to answer.”
Before anyone could speak, every light in the house went out.
A loud crash came from the kitchen.
Then another.
Someone was inside.
Nathan raised his gun.
Adrian whispered,
“Don't move.”
A shadow crossed the hallway.
My mother screamed.
Then a man's voice echoed through the darkness.
“Daniel.”
I knew that voice.
Marcus.
“You've heard enough.”
The lights suddenly came back.
Marcus stood in the doorway.
He wasn't alone.
Two armed men stood behind him.
But Marcus wasn't looking at Nathan.
Or Adrian.
Or my mother.
He was looking directly at me.
Then he smiled.
“It's time you learned who your real father is.”
He pulled out a photograph.
He held it toward me.
I stepped forward.
My blood froze.
The photograph showed my mother.
Pregnant.
Standing beside a man.
The man was not my father.
It was Marcus Vale.
And written across the bottom were four words:
Three months before your birth.
I looked at my mother.
She closed her eyes.
Marcus smiled.
“Now ask her what happened next.”
My mother whispered:
“I’m sorry, Daniel.”
Marcus took one step forward.
“Your entire life was built on a lie.”
Then he looked at Adrian.
“And your brother was the only one who knew the truth.”
Adrian suddenly raised his gun.
Not at Marcus.
At me.
My blood ran cold.
“Adrian?”
His hand trembled.
Marcus smiled.
“Go ahead.”
Adrian's eyes filled with tears.
May you like
“I'm sorry.”
Then he pulled the trigger.
