CHAPTER 8: THE BROTHER I NEVER KNEW
For a moment, I thought I had misheard her.
“My brother?”
My mother nodded.
I stared at her.
“That’s impossible.”
She wiped her tears.
“You were never supposed to know.”
“I was an only child.”
“Yes.”
“Then how could I have a brother?”
My mother looked toward Sarah.
Sarah's face was pale.
“His name was Daniel.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But the way Sarah said it made my stomach twist.
“Who was Daniel?”
My mother lowered her head.
“Your older brother.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You were three years old when he was born.”
“I would remember.”
“You don't.”
“Why?”
My mother took a shaky breath.
“Because we made sure you wouldn't.”
I stepped backward.
The cemetery seemed to spin.
“What did you do to me?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what?”
“We told you he died.”
My voice cracked.
“How?”
My mother couldn't answer.
Sarah stepped forward.
“He didn't die.”
I looked at her.
“Then where is he?”
Sarah's eyes filled with tears.
“We don't know.”
I stared at my mother.
“You gave him to Blackridge.”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because he was sick.”
“That doesn't explain anything.”
“He had the same blood marker Emily has.”
My heart stopped.
The same marker.
The same genetic anomaly.
The same reason they wanted my daughter.
I looked at the photograph on my phone.
Emily.
White room.
Victor.
My mother.
Everything suddenly felt much larger than me.
“Why did they want Daniel?”
My mother whispered:
“They believed he could be cured.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“He became the first subject.”
Sarah closed her eyes.
“The first failure.”
My stomach turned.
“What did they do to him?”
My mother began crying.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“I was told he died.”
“Who told you?”
“Your father.”
I stared at her.
“And you believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
That answer hurt more than anything else.
I had spent my entire life believing my childhood was ordinary.
It wasn't.
There had been another child.
A brother.
A child who had been erased from my life.
And now my daughter had been pulled into the same nightmare.
I looked at Sarah.
“Does Victor know about Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I told you. We don't know.”
I looked at the grave.
Then at the locket.
“Maybe he does.”
Sarah grabbed my arm.
“Don't go there.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor wants you to.”
“He took my daughter.”
“And he wants you to follow.”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because if you go alone, you won't come back.”
I stepped closer.
“Then come with me.”
Sarah hesitated.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the last time I went into that archive, three people died.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
She didn't answer.
“Sarah.”
She looked away.
“Your father.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He died there.”
“My father died of a heart attack.”
“That was the story.”
I felt my hands go numb.
“What actually happened?”
Sarah whispered:
“Victor killed him.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Sarah looked at her.
“You know it's true.”
“You weren't there.”
“I was.”
My mother began crying.
“I saw him.”
“Who?”
“Daniel.”
I stopped breathing.
My mother looked at me.
“The night your father died, I saw Daniel.”
“Where?”
“In the archive.”
“Alive?”
She nodded.
My entire body went cold.
“How old was he?”
“About twelve.”
That meant he had survived.
At least until then.
“Then where is he now?”
My mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Sarah whispered:
“Victor knows.”
I looked toward the road.
“Then we find Victor.”
My mother grabbed my sleeve.
“No.”
I pulled away.
“You've lied to me my entire life.”
“I was afraid.”
“So am I.”
I looked at her.
“But I'm not going to let fear decide what happens to my daughter.”
We left the cemetery.
Mark drove.
Sarah sat beside me.
My mother stayed behind with the police.
I didn't trust her.
Not anymore.
The silence inside the car was unbearable.
Finally, I asked:
“What happened to Daniel?”
Sarah stared through the window.
“He was six when they took him.”
“Six?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“They told your parents he had a rare disease.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“Was it real?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
Sarah hesitated.
“His body couldn't repair damaged tissue properly.”
I looked at her.
“And Emily can?”
“Emily's body repairs damaged tissue unusually fast.”
“So they used Daniel to create her treatment.”
Sarah nodded.
“His cells were the foundation.”
I felt sick.
“My daughter exists because of my brother?”
“Partly.”
“What does that mean?”
“The treatment was developed using Daniel's genetic material.”
I stared ahead.
“So Emily carries something from him.”
“Yes.”
I thought of the locket.
The archive.
The numbers.
17-06-24.
“Why is Emily Subject 17?”
Sarah answered quietly.
“Because there were sixteen attempts before her.”
“And Daniel?”
“He was Subject Zero.”
My heart stopped.
“Zero?”
“He wasn't counted among the official experiments.”
“Why?”
“Because he wasn't an experiment at first.”
“What was he?”
“A patient.”
I looked at her.
“And when did he become a subject?”
“When your father signed the transfer.”
I closed my eyes.
My own father.
The man who had taught me to ride a bicycle.
The man who had carried me on his shoulders.
The man I had mourned.
He had signed away my brother.
Then my daughter.
I opened my eyes.
“Why did my father do it?”
Sarah's answer came slowly.
“Because he believed he was saving your family.”
“By sacrificing children?”
“He thought the disease would eventually kill everyone who carried the marker.”
“Did he carry it?”
Sarah looked at me.
“Yes.”
I froze.
“So do I?”
She didn't answer.
“Sarah.”
“Yes.”
My heart pounded.
“You're saying I have the same marker?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don't I have the disease?”
“Because you weren't born with the same severity.”
I looked down at my hands.
All my life, I had thought I was ordinary.
Now I wondered how much of my own body was a secret.
Then Sarah whispered:
“There's another reason they want Emily.”
“What?”
“You.”
I turned.
“What do you mean?”
“Your genetic profile is different from Daniel's.”
“How?”
“You carry a natural variant that Emily inherited.”
I stared at her.
“So?”
“That variant could stabilize the treatment.”
My stomach dropped.
“You're saying they need me too?”
Sarah nodded.
“Emily is the result.”
“And I'm the missing ingredient.”
She looked away.
“Yes.”
The car went silent.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Victor's voice.
“You're getting closer.”
“Where is Emily?”
“Safe.”
“Put her on.”
A pause.
Then I heard Emily.
“Daddy?”
My heart broke.
“Emily!”
“I'm scared.”
“I'm coming.”
Victor returned.
“You should thank me.”
“For what?”
“For finally bringing your family together.”
“Where are you?”
“You're going to find out.”
“Let my daughter go.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When you open the archive.”
“How?”
Victor laughed.
“You have the key.”
I looked at the locket.
“The locket?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“You.”
My blood ran cold.
“What does that mean?”
“You've been carrying the key your entire life.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Sarah looked at me.
“What did he say?”
“He said I'm the key.”
She went pale.
“Then we have to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because if Victor activates the archive using your blood…”
She swallowed.
“He'll expose everything.”
“What everything?”
Sarah looked directly at me.
“The truth about your family.”
I waited.
She whispered:
“And the identity of Subject Zero.”
I frowned.
“Daniel?”
Sarah shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
She didn't answer.
The car suddenly jerked.
Mark slammed on the brakes.
“What the hell?”
A black SUV had blocked the road.
Another appeared behind us.
Three men stepped out.
Sarah grabbed my arm.
“Don't get out.”
I looked at the approaching men.
One of them raised a weapon.
Mark reached for his gun.
Then a fourth person stepped from behind the SUV.
I recognized him immediately.
Victor.
He held a phone.
“Your daughter wants to talk to you.”
He pressed the screen.
Emily's voice came through.
“Daddy…”
I clenched my fists.
“Let her go.”
Victor smiled.
“First, come inside.”
He pointed toward an old building beside the road.
I looked at the faded sign.
BLACKRIDGE RESEARCH CENTER.
My blood turned cold.
The building was supposed to have been abandoned twenty years ago.
Victor smiled.
“Welcome home.”
Sarah whispered beside me:
“This is where Daniel disappeared.”
Victor looked at her.
“No.”
He smiled.
“This is where Daniel was born.”
I stared at the building.
Then I heard a sound from inside.
A child's voice.
Calling my name.
“Daddy?”
I turned toward Victor.
“That isn't Emily.”
His smile widened.
“No.”
A second voice came from inside the building.
Older.
Male.
Weak.
But unmistakably human.
“Brother…”
I froze.
The voice came again.
“It's me.”
I couldn't breathe.
Sarah covered her mouth.
Victor stepped aside.
And from the darkness of the research center, a man walked slowly into the light.
He looked about thirty.
A scar ran across his cheek.
His eyes were the same color as mine.
He stared at me.
Then he whispered:
“I've been waiting for you for twenty-seven years.”
My knees nearly gave out.
Because I knew that face.
Not from memory.
From the photograph hidden in my mother's house.
The photograph of a little boy she had claimed was someone else's child.
May you like
My brother was alive.
And he had just walked out of Blackridge.
