Chapter 13 - The ReservationThe sibling compatibility clause was one of the strangest documents I'd ever read.
It stated that genetic material from designated family members could be reserved for future reproductive or therapeutic use.
The designated individuals included Lena.
And me.
My name appeared beside a patient code created in 1994.
That meant my genetic profile had been stored since birth.
I felt sick.
“We were assets.”
Lena shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
“What would you call it?”
“Subjects.”
That was worse.
I spent the night extracting every document from the USB.
Then I found the money trail.
Eleanor had been funding EverBloom through Crescent Meridian.
Daniel had routed consulting payments through a separate vendor.
Grant had received consulting fees.
My father had received “family support.”
Vanessa had received medical expense reimbursements.
And every payment had one common factor.
My genetic profile.
I called a federal investigator I knew through prior compliance work.
Not as a formal whistleblower.
Not yet.
Just enough to ask whether the structure raised concerns.
He told me to preserve everything.
Then he asked one question.
“Where is the original contract?”
I told him I had it.
“Don't sign anything else.”
I laughed quietly.
“Trust me. I'm done signing.”
He paused.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Do not confront the people involved alone.”
I looked across the room at Lena.
Too late.
The next morning, my mother called.
“Come home.”
“No.”
“Please.”
Her voice was different.
Not angry.
Afraid.
“Why?”
“Your father disappeared.”
I froze.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Did he leave a note?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
She whispered:
“He said to find Claire.”
I closed my eyes.
“I am Claire.”
“I know.”
“No. I think you don't.”
Silence.
Then Mom said:
“Your father wasn't talking about you.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“He was talking about your sister.”
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
I stared.
Mom began crying.
“The sister you don't know.”
Lena.
I looked at her.
She had heard.
Mom continued.
“Evelyn had another child.”
I frowned.
“What are you saying?”
“She had a second daughter.”
My heart hammered.
“Who?”
“I don't know where she is.”
“You just said…”
“I know.”
Mom's voice broke.
“Your grandmother hid her too.”
I looked at Lena.
She shook her head.
“This is new.”
I asked Mom:
“Where is Dad?”
“He left a storage key.”
“What storage?”
“Your grandmother's.”
I drove there with Lena.
Inside the storage unit were dozens of boxes.
Old photographs.
Medical records.
Letters.
A metal safe.
Inside the safe was a handwritten ledger.
The ledger contained names.
Payment amounts.
Dates.
Hospital codes.
At the bottom was a final entry:
Third daughter: protected elsewhere.
I stared.
“Third?”
Lena's face went pale.
“How many of us are there?”
We searched.
One name appeared.
Amelia.
Born 2001.
Mother:
Evelyn Bennett.
Status:
deceased.
I looked at Lena.
“Deceased?”
She shook her head.
“There was never a death certificate.”
We checked.
There wasn't.
Amelia had simply vanished.
Then I noticed an address beside her name.
A rural property outside the city.
We drove there that afternoon.
The house was abandoned.
But someone had recently been inside.
A cup on the counter.
Fresh.
A blanket still warm.
And a photograph pinned to the wall.
Three women.
Me.
Lena.
Amelia.
Taken recently.
I stared.
“Someone knows all three of us.”
Lena stepped closer.
On the back of the photograph were seven words.
You were never supposed to meet each other.
Then a voice came from behind us.
“I was.”
We turned.
A woman stood in the doorway.
Mid-thirties.
Dark hair.
Tired eyes.
She looked at me.
Then Lena.
And smiled sadly.
“My name is Amelia.”
I couldn't speak.
She looked at the photograph.
“Your family has been lying to all of you.”
“Why?”
She answered:
“Because one of us was supposed to inherit the company.”
Lena frowned.
“What company?”
Amelia looked directly at me.
“EverBloom.”
Then she added:
“And Dad was supposed to help make it happen.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“Dad?”
She nodded.
May you like
“Your father wasn't just their partner.”
“He was their successor.”
