Chapter 10 - THE SAFE HOUSEWe escaped through an underground tunnel beneath the hospital.

The tunnel connected to an abandoned rail line.

Police cars waited outside.

We drove for two hours.

Nobody spoke.

Eventually we arrived at a safe house outside the city.

I thought we were safe.

We weren't.

At 3:12 a.m., the lights went out.

Again.

This time I knew it wasn't an accident.

Footsteps moved outside.

The federal agent locked the doors.

“Stay inside.”

Gunfire erupted.

Windows shattered.

Daniel pushed Emily to the floor.

The agent fired back.

I crawled toward the hallway.

Someone grabbed me.

I screamed.

Then recognized the face.

Carter.

He pressed a hand over my mouth.

“You need to listen.”

I struggled.

“You're one of them.”

“Yes.”

He looked terrified.

“But I'm trying to get out.”

“What happened to the other women?”

His eyes filled with shame.

“Most were sold.”

“Most?”

“Some survived.”

“Where?”

He gave me an address.

“Blackwood.”

I stared.

“The facility doesn't exist.”

“It exists.”

He handed me a key.

“Room nineteen.”

“Why give this to me?”

“Because the original records are there.”

“What's in them?”

“Everything.”

Before I could ask more, the door exploded inward.

Carter shoved me behind a wall.

Shots rang through the room.

When the smoke cleared, Carter was gone.

So was Daniel.

Emily was unconscious.

The federal agents had been overwhelmed.

I looked at the key.

Room 19.

Again.

Always Room 19.

We escaped.

By dawn, the safe house was destroyed.

The government classified the case as a national investigation.

But I didn't care about classifications anymore.

I wanted answers.

We drove to Blackwood.

The building stood in the middle of nowhere.

An abandoned medical complex.

No signs.

No electricity.

But the key opened the front entrance.

Inside, we found hundreds of records.

Patients.

Surgeries.

Payments.

Organ recipients.

Doctors.

Politicians.

Executives.

And then I found the file with my name.

ARIANA REED.

Inside was a photograph of me at seven.

And a note.

Subject survived memory suppression.

Below it:

Long-term placement successful.

My hands shook.

Then I found another file.

EMILY HARRIS.

There was one sentence highlighted in red.

She must never remember where the body is buried.

I stared at the page.

“The body?”

Emily had been beside me.

She looked at the file.

Then at me.

Her face went white.

“I know.”

“What?”

“Where they buried Ariana.”

I whispered:

“You're looking at her.”

Emily stared into my eyes.

“No.”

She pointed toward the basement.

“I'm talking about our mother.”

Then we heard a noise below us.

A hammer.

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