Chapter 14 - The Daughter in the BasementWe ran.
The old house erupted behind us in smoke.
By the time we reached the cars, flames were climbing through the upper windows.
“Harbor Saint Clinic,” Quinn said.
We drove.
Nobody spoke.
My mother held the birth certificate against her chest.
Nathan kept looking at the rearview mirror.
Eleanor called the clinic.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then someone picked up.
A man's voice.
“Harbor Saint.”
“This is Eleanor Mercer.”
Silence.
Then:
“She's gone.”
My blood froze.
“Who?”
“The patient.”
“Where did they take her?”
“We don't know.”
Quinn took the phone.
“What happened?”
“Three men arrived.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Description?”
“Military jackets.”
My father had moved her.
Again.
We reached the clinic.
The nurses were terrified.
The room was empty.
There was a chair overturned.
An IV line hanging from the pole.
And blood on the floor.
My mother collapsed.
“No.”
I checked the bed.
There was a note.
One sentence.
SHE ASKED FOR YOU.
Underneath it was a second line.
SHE SAID YOUR NAME.
My hands trembled.
“What is her name?”
The nurse looked confused.
“Claire.”
I stared.
“No.”
The nurse checked the file.
“That's what the paperwork says.”
I opened the folder.
There it was.
CLAIRE MERCER PARK.
My own name.
I looked at Quinn.
“They named her after me?”
“No.”
My mother whispered.
“Martin did.”
I understood.
He had erased her real name.
Replaced it with mine.
Made her another version of the daughter he believed belonged to him.
Quinn searched the clinic records.
“Security footage.”
The nurses showed us the monitor.
Three men carrying a woman into a black van.
She was conscious.
She turned toward the camera.
And I saw her face.
It was mine.
Not similar.
Not vaguely.
Mine.
Same eyes.
Same nose.
Same birthmark near the left eyebrow.
I stepped backward.
“She's my twin.”
My mother nodded.
“You were born minutes apart.”
I stared at her.
“You said she was born a year before me.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because Martin was in the room when she was born.”
Quinn looked at the footage.
“There.”
He paused it.
One man opened the van door.
A tattoo appeared on his wrist.
Quinn recognized it.
“Mercer Security.”
My father's own private unit.
“They took her to the estate.”
The old Mercer estate.
We drove there.
The gates were locked.
Quinn rammed them.
Inside, every window was dark.
No staff.
No guards.
Too quiet.
We entered through the main door.
Nathan looked around.
“This is where Dad kept us when we were kids.”
“Where?”
“Basement.”
We found the stairs.
At the bottom was a concrete room.
A woman sat in a chair.
Her wrists were tied.
She looked up.
My heart stopped.
“Claire?”
She stared at me.
Then began to cry.
“You came.”
I walked toward her.
She looked at my face.
Then touched my cheek.
“I knew you'd come.”
My father stepped from the shadows.
Clapping slowly.
“Beautiful.”
Quinn raised his gun.
“Hands up.”
My father smiled.
“You're too late.”
I looked at my sister.
“What's your name?”
She whispered,
“Anna.”
I stepped closer.
“Anna.”
She smiled through tears.
“Yes.”
My father looked at the clock.
11:58.
“Happy birthday, Claire.”
“What?”
He smiled.
“Your birthday.”
“It's tomorrow.”
“For you.”
He pulled out a document.
“Trust transfer.”
He placed it on the table.
“You sign this, the company stays mine.”
“And if I don't?”
He looked at Anna.
“She dies.”
I stared at him.
“You're insane.”
He laughed.
“No.”
He pointed toward the ceiling.
“I'm prepared.”
Quinn looked at the document.
“She's not signing.”
My father pressed a button.
The lights turned red.
A timer appeared.
02:00
“What is that?”
My father smiled.
“The house ventilation system.”
I stared.
“Gas?”
He nodded.
“You have two minutes to sign.”
Anna began coughing.
My mother screamed.
“Martin!”
He looked at her.
“You should have stayed quiet.”
I grabbed the pen.
Quinn grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
I looked at him.
“It's the only way.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Then I noticed something on the contract.
A tiny line at the bottom.
EXECUTION WITNESS: NATHAN MERCER.
I looked at my brother.
He understood too.
My father hadn't noticed.
Nathan smiled.
For the first time in his life, my brother looked fearless.
He stepped toward the table.
And pressed the pen into the document.
Not to sign.
To stab through the page.
A hidden chip fell out.
Quinn caught it.
My father went pale.
Nathan said one sentence.
May you like
“Grandpa knew you'd do this.”
The timer hit 00:59.
