Chapter 16 - Project HollisterThe documents were impossible to understand at first.
Too many names.
Too many codes.
Too many redacted pages.
But one phrase appeared repeatedly.
Inherited assets.
Samuel explained that the Hollister trust wasn't merely money.
It controlled voting rights in multiple healthcare corporations.
Ownership of hospitals.
Pharmaceutical patents.
Research facilities.
The bloodline wasn't valuable because of wealth.
It was valuable because whoever inherited the trust could decide who controlled billions in assets.
“Why would the government care?”
Sarah answered.
“Because the companies supplied military contracts.”
I stared.
“And Wayne was involved?”
“He was a courier,” she said.
“For who?”
“Voss.”
“Why steal babies?”
“To manipulate inheritance.”
Emily suddenly spoke.
“My adoptive parents were part of the test.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What test?”
She pulled a paper from the file.
“When I was a child, they took samples of my blood.”
Sarah frowned.
“For what?”
“Genetic matching.”
My stomach turned.
“All three of us.”
Sarah nodded.
“That's why they needed you alive.”
I looked at my sisters.
Three daughters.
Three identities.
One inheritance.
One hidden family.
Then Samuel found something worse.
A classified letter.
Signed by someone inside the government.
It read:
Subject Linda Hale was designated primary heir.
Subject Emily Hale to remain undisclosed.
Subject Sarah Hale to be terminated if located.
My blood froze.
“Terminated?”
Sarah's face went white.
“They wanted me dead.”
“Why?”
Samuel looked at the next page.
“Because Sarah was born with the same genetic marker.”
I stared.
“So why kill her?”
“Because there could only be one verified heir.”
Emily whispered:
“Someone changed the rules.”
Samuel nodded.
“There was supposed to be one surviving child.”
I felt sick.
“Then why are we all alive?”
Nobody answered.
A knock came at the door.
We turned.
A federal agent stepped inside.
Gray suit.
Badge.
No smile.
“Linda Carter?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Agent Daniel Mercer.”
I stared.
The room went silent.
Emily stood.
“Daniel Mercer.”
He looked at me.
“I believe we need to discuss your father.”
My pulse stopped.
“You're Daniel Mercer.”
He nodded.
“I was.”
“What does that mean?”
“I used to be.”
He closed the door.
“I'm the man who was supposed to die thirty years ago.”
Samuel went pale.
Agent Mercer looked at the three sisters.
Then at me.
“I've spent thirty years trying to undo what Wayne started.”
He placed a file on the table.
Inside was a photograph of Mama.
The date was yesterday.
She was standing beside a man.
I recognized him immediately.
Wayne.
My stomach dropped.
The photograph had been taken three months before his supposed death.
May you like
Agent Mercer whispered:
“Your stepfather never died when you were told he did.”
