Chapter 7 - The Woman in Room 714I ignored the message.
Not because I wasn't afraid.
Because fear was no longer useful.
I arrived at St. Vincent through the emergency entrance.
The oncology floor was under lockdown.
No visitors.
No exceptions.
That meant someone had already anticipated me.
I found another entrance.
An old service corridor used by maintenance.
The security cameras had been disabled.
That told me everything.
Someone inside the hospital was helping them.
I reached Room 714.
Empty.
The bed was warm.
Sophie had been there minutes earlier.
On the bedside table was a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
Four words.
YOU LEFT TOO LATE.
I looked behind the curtain.
A security guard lay unconscious.
Then I heard movement.
Room 716.
I opened the door.
A woman sat inside.
She looked nothing like Sophie.
Older.
Weak.
Bald.
An IV in her arm.
She looked at me.
“You're Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“Your father sent you.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“He always sends family when he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.”
“Who are you?”
“Laura Mercer.”
Dr. Mercer.
The doctor who had supposedly been unavailable.
“You know where Sophie is.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Laura pointed toward the window.
“Gone.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Who took her?”
“You're asking the wrong question.”
“What question should I ask?”
“Why did she let them take her?”
I froze.
“She didn't resist?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Laura looked at me.
“Because she wants to reach the archive.”
“What archive?”
Laura laughed softly.
“Everyone keeps asking that.”
“You know where it is.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You're afraid.”
“I've been afraid for fifteen years.”
“Of my father?”
“Of what he built.”
She closed her eyes.
“Project Helix wasn't one project.”
“What?”
“There were seven.”
My blood ran cold.
“Seven?”
“Helix One through Seven.”
“What was Seven?”
Laura opened her eyes.
“The successful one.”
“What does that mean?”
“Children.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Children who carried the genetic sequence your grandfather wanted.”
I stared at her.
“How many?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Where are they?”
“Dead.”
All thirty-two?
She nodded.
“Except one.”
My heart pounded.
“Who?”
Laura looked at me.
“Sophie.”
I stepped backward.
“No.”
“She was one of the children.”
“That's impossible.”
“She was adopted.”
I stared at her.
Sophie had always told me she was born in Oregon.
Her parents had died when she was young.
I knew almost nothing about her childhood.
Suddenly, those gaps became terrifying.
“Her parents?”
“Not her biological parents.”
“Then who?”
Laura whispered:
“Your grandfather.”
The world seemed to stop.
Sophie wasn't just my wife.
She wasn't just a victim.
She was part of my family.
“That's why they selected her,” Laura continued.
“They married you?”
“No.”
“You were the one they wanted.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why?”
“Because your DNA was the key.”
I thought about our children.
The miscarriages.
The cancer.
The research.
Everything connected.
But then something didn't fit.
“Sophie said the cancer was caused by her.”
Laura shook her head.
“She lied.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
“From the truth about your first child.”
I leaned forward.
“What truth?”
Laura looked toward the door.
“They weren't miscarriages.”
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“Your first baby survived.”
I couldn't speak.
May you like
Laura whispered:
“They took the baby.”
