Chapter 7 - The Voice of a Dead WomanThe voice repeated the same sentence across every speaker in the mansion.
“Emergency authorization accepted.”
My mother staggered toward the nearest monitor.
“That isn't possible.”
The voice was unmistakable. Vincent's mother had died in a house fire when he was fourteen. I had seen her photographs in the family wing, a beautiful woman with dark hair and a silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon.
Vincent stood frozen.
For the first time, his eyes filled with something worse than fear.
Hope.
He stared at the speaker as though he could force himself to hear.
Mother rushed to the control panel and entered a sequence into the keyboard. Several encrypted folders opened across the screen.
One contained an audio recording dated nineteen years earlier.
The title read:
ELENA MORETTI: FINAL TESTIMONY.
Vincent took the tablet.
My mother pressed play.
Elena's voice filled the room.
“My son, if you are listening to this, then I failed to keep you safe.”
Vincent's hands began trembling.
“My husband believed he could control Dr. Vale. He thought the device inside you would allow him to intercept Vale's transmissions and protect the family. He was wrong.”
The recording crackled.
“Anthony made a terrible bargain. He gave Vale access to his organization in exchange for your survival. But Vale never intended to let you grow into a man who could challenge him.”
A pause.
“If I am dead, it means he has already found the archive.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
Elena continued.
“The truth about your hearing is more complicated than they told you. The implant damaged your auditory system, but it was designed to do something else. It monitored your neurological responses and altered how your brain processed certain signals.”
My mother stopped the recording.
Vincent stared at her.
She explained that the earliest Project Echo prototypes had been designed to transmit information through external receivers. The modified version installed in Vincent included a secondary system intended to disrupt sensory processing under specific conditions.
It couldn't control his thoughts.
But it could provoke pain, confusion, and temporary neurological disturbances.
The device had been used to make him dependent on Dr. Vale's treatment while keeping him unaware of the people monitoring him.
When I removed it, I may have interrupted the system.
I looked at the black capsule sealed in the metal case.
Its red light had stopped blinking.
“What does the emergency authorization mean?”
Mother turned to the screen.
“It means someone has accessed the archive.”
A new file appeared.
ELENA MORETTI: LIVE FEED.
The footage showed a woman sitting in a white room.
She looked older than the photographs, with silver streaks in her hair and a thin scar beneath her jaw.
She wore a gray hospital gown.
Her hands were folded on a table.
Behind her stood Dr. Elias Vale.
I covered my mouth.
Vincent stepped so close to the screen that his forehead nearly touched it.
Vale leaned toward the camera.
“Hello, Vincent.”
He moved slowly, allowing Vincent to read his lips through the recording.
“I imagine you have many questions.”
Vincent struck the screen.
Vale continued smiling.
“Your mother has been alive for fourteen years. She helped me complete the archive after your father died.”
My mother whispered something I couldn't hear.
Vale's expression sharpened.
“She was very cooperative at first. Then she began making demands.”
The image changed.
Elena turned toward the camera.
Her mouth formed a single word.
RUN.
The screen went black.
A second later, a map appeared.
A red dot pulsed on the north side of Chicago.
The system identified the location as a decommissioned medical facility outside the city.
Beneath it appeared a message.
PATIENT E. MORETTI. TRANSFER IN 01:47:00.
Vincent opened a weapons cabinet.
Mother caught his arm.
“You can't go there without a plan.”
He typed on my phone.
“She is my mother.”
“And if you walk into Vale's facility, he'll kill you both.”
Vincent looked at the photographs scattered across the table.
Then at me.
“I won't ask you to come.”
I took the phone.
“You don't get to decide that for me.”
He shook his head.
I continued typing.
“My father sold me, my brother laughed, and everyone in my life lied to me. I'm done being left behind while other people decide what truths I'm allowed to know.”
Vincent watched me carefully.
Then he nodded.
We began preparing to leave.
Before we reached the garage, Anna grabbed my sleeve.
She pointed to the map, then to a small symbol hidden near the red dot.
A crescent moon.
The same symbol as Elena's pendant.
May you like
Anna typed one final message.
THAT PLACE ISN'T A HOSPITAL. IT'S WHERE THEY TAUGHT ME TO FORGET YOU.
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