CHAPTER 10 — MAYA WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THERE
Ryan stopped breathing.
He knew that voice.
Maya.
His wife.
The woman he had trusted with his life.
The woman who was supposed to be at the hospital beside Oliver.
The woman who had been bleeding in the nursery only hours earlier.
Yet her voice was coming from downstairs.
“Maya?”
Daniel grabbed Ryan's arm.
“Don't.”
Ryan pulled away.
“That was my wife.”
“No.”
Daniel's face was pale.
“That isn't Maya.”
Ryan stared at him.
“I know her voice.”
“So does she.”
Another silence.
Then the voice came again.
“Ryan?”
This time it sounded frightened.
Almost exactly like Maya.
“Please come downstairs.”
Ryan took one step toward the stairs.
Daniel blocked him.
“You don't understand.”
“My son is in the hospital.”
“I know.”
“My wife is there.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not anymore.”
Ryan froze.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel pointed toward the hallway.
“Look.”
Ryan glanced through the doorway.
A figure was standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Long dark hair.
White blouse.
Ryan's wife's posture.
Maya.
She slowly looked upward.
“Ryan?”
Ryan's heart pounded.
“Maya?”
The woman smiled.
“Yes.”
Daniel whispered:
“Don't go near her.”
The woman looked directly at Daniel.
Her expression changed.
For one brief second, the smile disappeared.
Then she laughed.
Not Maya's laugh.
Something colder.
Ryan's blood turned to ice.
“Who are you?”
The woman began walking upstairs.
One step.
Then another.
Daniel reached into his coat.
Ryan saw the gun.
“You brought a gun?”
“To protect you.”
“From her?”
“Yes.”
The woman stopped halfway up the stairs.
“Daniel.”
Her voice changed.
It was deeper now.
Older.
“Put the gun away.”
Daniel raised it.
“Stay where you are.”
The woman smiled.
“You still think you can control this?”
Ryan looked between them.
“What is happening?”
Nobody answered.
Then the woman slowly removed something from her pocket.
A photograph.
She held it up.
Ryan saw himself.
As a baby.
Beside him was another infant.
Noah.
And standing behind them was Maya.
Except the Maya in the photograph looked exactly the same as she did today.
Ryan's stomach dropped.
“That's impossible.”
The woman smiled.
“You finally noticed.”
Ryan stared at the photograph.
Maya had not aged.
The picture was supposedly taken twenty-two years ago.
Yet the woman beside the babies looked exactly like his wife.
He shook his head.
“No.”
The woman continued climbing.
“She isn't your wife.”
Ryan felt the world tilt.
“Then who is she?”
The woman stopped.
“Ask Daniel.”
Ryan turned toward his father.
Daniel lowered the gun.
His face was destroyed by fear.
“Ryan…”
“Tell me.”
“I can't.”
“You know who Maya is.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“She was part of the experiment.”
Ryan's heart stopped.
“What experiment?”
“The identity experiment.”
Ryan remembered the file.
PROJECT NOAH.
Subject Ryan Whitmore was the experiment.
But now there was something else.
Maya.
“What did you do to her?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Nothing.”
The woman laughed.
“That's what he always says.”
Ryan looked at her.
“Who are you?”
She reached the top of the stairs.
Then she pulled a small device from her pocket.
A remote.
She pressed one button.
The old television in Ryan's childhood bedroom turned on.
Static filled the room.
Then a recording appeared.
Ryan saw a hospital.
A newborn.
A young woman.
Maya.
Ryan stepped backward.
“No…”
The footage showed Maya walking into a hospital room.
She was younger.
But it was unmistakably her.
She approached a newborn baby.
Ryan.
Then she looked directly at the camera.
And smiled.
Ryan's knees nearly gave out.
“That isn't possible.”
Daniel whispered:
“She was there before you were born.”
Ryan looked at him.
“How?”
“She was assigned to your family.”
“Assigned?”
“To protect you.”
The woman on the stairs laughed.
“No.”
Daniel looked at her.
“To manipulate him.”
Ryan stared at the screen.
The footage continued.
Maya was holding baby Ryan.
She whispered something.
The audio was faint.
Ryan turned up the volume.
Her voice became clear.
“Someday, he'll trust me more than anyone.”
Ryan felt sick.
The recording ended.
He looked at the woman.
“Who are you?”
She smiled.
“Someone who knows the truth.”
“Tell me.”
“I already did.”
“What?”
She pointed at the file in his hand.
“Read the final page.”
Ryan looked down.
He hadn't reached the end.
His fingers shook as he turned the page.
There was a photograph.
Maya.
Evelyn.
Daniel.
And another man.
Ryan stared at the fourth person.
He recognized him.
The man from the hospital.
The man who had been watching Oliver.
The man whose face appeared in several childhood photographs.
His uncle.
Except Ryan had never had an uncle.
The name beneath the photograph read:
MICHAEL WHITMORE.
Ryan's heart slammed against his ribs.
“Noah was Michael.”
Daniel nodded.
Ryan looked at him.
“You said Michael died.”
Daniel whispered:
“He didn't.”
“Then where is he?”
The woman smiled.
“Right in front of you.”
Ryan looked at her.
She stepped closer.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I am Michael.”
Ryan couldn't speak.
The woman standing in front of him had been pretending to be Maya.
But her real identity was something else.
Something impossible.
She reached up and slowly pulled away a small piece of skin behind her ear.
Ryan stared.
A thin surgical scar ran beneath it.
Daniel whispered:
“They changed his face.”
Ryan's stomach turned.
“They made him look like Maya.”
Michael nodded.
“I needed to get close to you.”
Ryan stepped backward.
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“From who?”
Michael looked toward the window.
“From the person who has been controlling your life since the day you were born.”
Ryan swallowed.
“Daniel?”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
“Evelyn?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Michael looked at the door.
Suddenly, the house fell silent.
Too silent.
Then Ryan heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps outside.
Several people.
Approaching.
Michael's expression changed.
“They found us.”
Daniel raised his gun.
“Who?”
Michael whispered:
“The Whitmore Foundation.”
Ryan frowned.
“My father's foundation?”
Michael nodded.
“The organization Daniel created.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I didn't create it.”
Michael looked at him.
“You started it.”
“I tried to destroy it.”
“But you failed.”
Ryan stared at both of them.
“What are they doing?”
Michael answered:
“They're coming for Oliver.”
Ryan's blood ran cold.
“He's at the hospital.”
Michael looked at him.
“Not anymore.”
Ryan froze.
“What?”
Michael took out his phone.
He showed Ryan a message.
PATIENT TRANSFER COMPLETE.
Ryan's heart stopped.
“Who transferred my son?”
Michael looked directly into his eyes.
“The hospital administrator.”
Ryan grabbed the phone.
“Where is he?”
Michael shook his head.
“We don't know.”
Ryan's phone suddenly rang.
The caller ID showed the hospital.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice spoke.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“We're calling about your son.”
“Where is Oliver?”
Silence.
Then:
“I'm afraid there's been a complication.”
Ryan's blood ran cold.
“What complication?”
The voice became quieter.
“Your son was removed from the hospital forty minutes ago.”
Ryan stopped breathing.
“Who authorized it?”
Another pause.
Then the man said:
“His mother.”
Ryan stared at Michael.
“Which mother?”
The voice on the phone answered:
“Claire Whitmore.”
The line went dead.
Ryan slowly lowered the phone.
Michael's face had gone white.
Daniel whispered:
“Claire is dead.”
Ryan looked at him.
“Then who just took my son?”
From outside came the sound of multiple car doors slamming.
Michael looked toward the window.
Then he whispered:
“They've found Oliver.”
Ryan grabbed the file.
“We're going.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Where?”
Ryan looked at the address on the metal key.
“The old hospital.”
Michael stared at him.
“Why?”
Ryan held up the key.
“Because someone hid the truth there.”
Then his phone vibrated one final time.
A photograph appeared.
Oliver was sitting in the back seat of a black car.
Beside him sat a woman wearing Evelyn's silver pendant.
Ryan zoomed in.
His blood froze.
The woman wasn't Claire.
She wasn't Evelyn.
She wasn't Maya.
It was a woman Ryan had never seen before.
But the child beside her was smiling.
May you like
And beneath the photograph was one sentence:
YOUR SON FINALLY KNOWS WHO HIS REAL MOTHER IS.
