Chapter 9 - MY MOTHER’S RECORDSI couldn't move.
My mother had been dead for eight years.
Yet her voice echoed through the hallway.
“Mom?”
No answer.
I stepped inside.
The room smelled of antiseptic.
Old hospital equipment lined the walls.
Photographs hung beside the doors.
Children.
Dozens of them.
I recognized some.
Not because I knew them.
Because they had my eyes.
Sophie walked beside me.
“This place…”
“I know.”
Daniel touched a file cabinet.
“Your mother kept records.”
Thomas found a key.
The cabinet opened.
Inside were thousands of files.
One had my name.
I pulled it out.
My hands shook.
The first page contained a photograph of me at twenty-two.
Then another.
At twenty-five.
Then another.
Pregnant.
I dropped the file.
“Why is there a record of my pregnancy?”
Daniel picked it up.
“You were monitored.”
“I never knew.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
He flipped through the pages.
“Here.”
There was a medical report.
SUBJECT KAREN MERCER
NEUROLOGICAL REPAIR INDEX: 97%
REPRODUCTIVE VIABILITY: HIGH
GENETIC EXPRESSION: STABLE
Then a handwritten note.
Potential maternal source for Project Grace.
Sophie stared.
“Mom was part of the experiment?”
“Without consent,” Daniel said.
I felt sick.
“What happened to the baby?”
Daniel looked at me.
“You miscarried.”
I remembered.
Five years before Sophie was born, I had lost a pregnancy.
I had always blamed myself.
But the file revealed something else.
The miscarriage had been induced.
My mother had signed the authorization.
I screamed.
“No.”
Daniel held my shoulders.
“Karen.”
“My own mother?”
“She believed she was protecting you.”
“By taking my baby?”
“She thought the embryo would be used anyway.”
I turned the page.
There was another photograph.
A newborn.
Grace.
Underneath it:
SPECIMEN G-01
Then another line.
Transferred to Cryogenic Storage.
My hands were shaking so violently I couldn't hold the paper.
Suddenly, the lights went out.
A door slammed somewhere in the building.
Thomas whispered,
“Someone's here.”
Daniel pulled me behind a cabinet.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Someone walked into the room.
Rebecca.
She looked exhausted.
“You found it.”
I stared at her.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my mother took my baby.”
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
“She saved you.”
“By ruining my life?”
“She thought the project would kill you.”
“You lied to me.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
I shook my head.
“No more excuses.”
Rebecca slowly approached.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Your mother's records are incomplete.”
“Why?”
“She destroyed the final file.”
“About Grace?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“No.”
She looked at Sophie.
“About you.”
Sophie froze.
“Me?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Your birth certificate isn't your real birth certificate.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She was told to register you normally.”
“But she didn't.”
Rebecca pulled out a sealed envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a DNA test.
Mother:
Karen Mercer.
Father:
Unknown.
I looked at Daniel.
He was silent.
I felt my heart crack.
“Daniel?”
He lowered his eyes.
“You're not my biological daughter, Sophie.”
Sophie gasped.
I stared at my husband.
“You knew?”
“I discovered it six years ago.”
“Who is her father?”
Daniel didn't answer.
Rebecca did.
She whispered,
“The founder of the project.”
A noise came from the hallway.
Someone was running toward us.
Rebecca's eyes widened.
“Too late.”
The door burst open.
A man stood there.
Older.
Elegant.
Calm.
He looked at Sophie.
May you like
Then smiled.
“Hello, daughter.”
