CHAPTER 12: THE VOICE THAT SOUNDED LIKE ME
The steel door slammed shut.
The sound echoed through the archive.
Nobody moved.
Then my grandfather spoke from the other side.
“Now let's see which son betrays the other.”
I looked at Michael.
He looked back at me.
For the first time, I understood something.
My grandfather didn't need to kill us.
He only needed us to stop trusting each other.
The lights above us flickered.
Daniel grabbed my sleeve.
“Don't listen.”
“To what?”
“The voice.”
“What voice?”
“Any voice.”
I stared at him.
He was trembling.
“He can make people sound different.”
Michael nodded.
“He's been doing it for years.”
I looked at the steel door.
“How?”
“Recordings.”
“AI?”
“Not exactly.”
Michael walked toward the shelves.
“Your grandfather started experimenting with voice manipulation long before people knew what to call it.”
He pulled out a file.
Inside were audio transcripts.
Names.
Dates.
Recordings.
One file was labeled:
VOICE REPLICATION PROJECT.
I stared at it.
“Dad knew about this?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he stop him?”
“He tried.”
“Then why didn't he tell me?”
Michael looked at me.
“Because he was protecting you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the archive.
“Everyone knew something except me.”
Michael said nothing.
I opened another file.
A transcript appeared.
A conversation between my father and my grandfather.
Grandfather:
“You can't protect them forever.”
Dad:
“I don't need forever.”
Grandfather:
“You have two sons.”
Dad:
“I have three.”
I stopped.
Three.
I looked at Michael.
“Who was the third?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“What?”
“Dad said there were three.”
“But you and me.”
Michael looked at Daniel.
“And him.”
I frowned.
“Daniel isn't Dad's biological son.”
Silence.
I stared at Daniel.
He looked confused.
“What?”
My stomach tightened.
“What did Dad mean by three sons?”
Michael didn't answer.
Daniel whispered:
“Maybe he counted me.”
“No.”
Michael shook his head.
“Your father didn't speak carelessly.”
I looked through the transcript.
There was another line.
Grandfather:
“You can't save all three.”
Dad:
“I only need one of them to survive.”
I felt sick.
“Who was Dad talking about?”
Michael looked at me.
“I don't know.”
The lights flickered again.
Then the archive speakers activated.
My grandfather's voice filled the room.
“You've finally found the right file.”
I looked around.
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
Daniel covered his ears.
“Don't listen.”
Grandfather continued.
“Your father made one mistake.”
“What?”
“He trusted the wrong son.”
Michael looked at me.
“Don't answer.”
I shouted:
“Which one?”
Silence.
Then my grandfather laughed.
“That's the question.”
The speakers went dead.
Michael moved toward the shelves.
“We need another exit.”
“There isn't one.”
“There has to be.”
He searched the walls.
I looked at Daniel.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded.
Then he pointed toward a file.
“That one.”
I pulled it out.
The label read:
PROJECT D.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Dad.
My mother.
Daniel.
And me.
We were standing in front of a house.
But the date was strange.
The photograph had been taken years before I was born.
I stared at it.
“That can't be.”
Michael took the photograph.
His face changed.
“What?”
“This isn't possible.”
“Why?”
He pointed at the background.
A small boy stood near the doorway.
I recognized him.
Me.
I was about five years old.
But according to the date, I hadn't been born yet.
My head began spinning.
Michael whispered:
“Someone changed the date.”
“Obviously.”
“No.”
He turned the photograph over.
“There was no date originally.”
“Then who added it?”
Michael pointed at the ink.
“Your grandfather.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“To make us question what we remember.”
Daniel suddenly spoke.
“It's not fake.”
We both turned.
“How do you know?”
“Because I remember that day.”
I stared at him.
“What day?”
“The day Dad took us there.”
“Where?”
“Blackwood.”
My blood went cold.
“You've been there?”
Daniel nodded.
“When?”
“When I was little.”
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“Dad wanted to show us something.”
“What?”
“A room.”
“What room?”
Daniel's breathing changed.
“The room where they kept the children.”
I felt sick.
“What children?”
Daniel looked at Michael.
Michael's face had gone pale.
“Daniel…”
“He showed us.”
Michael shook his head.
“You were too young.”
“I remember.”
“What did you see?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Beds.”
“Children?”
“Yes.”
“Were they sick?”
“No.”
“Then why were they there?”
Daniel whispered:
“They were waiting for their parents to sign.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“Sign what?”
“Guardianship papers.”
The archive became silent.
I looked at Michael.
He was staring at the floor.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Dad made me promise.”
“Another promise.”
Michael nodded.
“He said if you knew, you'd try to save everyone.”
“And what's wrong with that?”
“You would have gotten yourself killed.”
I stared at him.
“Maybe.”
Then the lights turned red.
A siren sounded.
Rebecca shouted:
“We have to move!”
The archive doors unlocked.
We ran.
But outside the door was my mother.
She was alone.
No Mark.
No Judge.
No Dr. Cole.
She looked exhausted.
Her hair was wet.
Her hands were shaking.
She looked at me.
“Your grandfather wants you.”
I stepped forward.
“Where is he?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To help you.”
I laughed.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You tried to destroy Daniel.”
“I know.”
“You forged his guardianship.”
“I know.”
“You planned to take his trust.”
“I know.”
“Then why should I believe you now?”
She looked at Daniel.
“Because I finally understand.”
“What?”
“He never wanted the trust.”
I frowned.
“Then what does he want?”
She whispered:
“Daniel.”
I felt cold.
“Why?”
“Because Daniel remembers the first facility.”
Michael stepped forward.
“What facility?”
My mother looked at him.
“The one your father built.”
Michael froze.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Dad never built Blackwood.”
“He did.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“To protect people.”
“From your father?”
She nodded.
“He created Blackwood to hide witnesses.”
Michael's face changed.
“And then?”
“Your grandfather found it.”
My mother looked at me.
“He turned it into something else.”
“What?”
“A prison.”
Daniel suddenly stepped backward.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He was staring at my mother.
“You said Dad died because of the medicine.”
She nodded.
“But that's not what happened.”
My mother began crying.
“No.”
“You told me to forget.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Daniel's voice became louder.
“You told me Dad died at the hospital.”
“He did.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I saw him after.”
I stared at him.
“After what?”
Daniel looked at me.
“After they said he died.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did you see?”
“Dad was alive.”
The room went silent.
Michael stared at him.
“Where?”
Daniel whispered:
“Blackwood.”
My mother's face collapsed.
I grabbed Daniel's shoulders.
“You saw Dad alive after his death?”
Daniel nodded.
“How long?”
“One day.”
“And then?”
He began crying.
“I saw Grandpa.”
I looked at my mother.
She covered her mouth.
Daniel continued.
“Grandpa came into the room.”
“What did he do?”
Daniel's voice dropped to almost nothing.
“He told Dad…”
He swallowed.
“He told Dad he would make his sons choose which one gets to live.”
My heart stopped.
Michael stepped backward.
“That isn't possible.”
Daniel looked at him.
“He did.”
Then the lights went out again.
This time, a single monitor illuminated the room.
A countdown appeared.
00:09:59.
Nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds.
My grandfather's voice came through the speakers.
“Welcome to Blackwood.”
The countdown began.
Nine minutes.
Eight seconds.
And beneath it appeared three names:
DANIEL.
MICHAEL.
ME.
May you like
Then one final sentence appeared.
ONLY TWO WILL LEAVE.
