CHAPTER 12: THE WOMAN WHO LOOKED LIKE ME
I couldn't breathe.
The woman standing inside Room 317 looked exactly like me.
Not similar.
Not related.
Exactly.
Same dark hair.
Same eyes.
Same small scar near my chin.
Even the tiny mole beneath my left eye was there.
She stared at me with tears running down her face.
Then she whispered,
“You finally remembered.”
I stepped backward.
“No.”
She took one step forward.
“Emma…”
“Don't call me that.”
Her expression broke.
“That's your name.”
“My name is Emma.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then who are you?”
She looked at the three children.
“I'm the woman who was supposed to become their mother.”
My father closed his eyes.
I turned toward him.
“You knew.”
He whispered,
“Yes.”
My voice shook.
“You knew there was someone who looked exactly like me.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since before you were born.”
My stomach twisted.
I looked back at the woman.
“Are you my twin?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then what?”
She lifted the photograph.
“A prototype.”
The word made my skin crawl.
“A prototype of me?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To create you.”
Silence.
I stared at her.
“You're saying I was made from you?”
She nodded.
“Partially.”
My father finally spoke.
“They used her DNA.”
I looked at him.
“Whose else?”
He didn't answer.
The woman did.
“Your mother's.”
I felt dizzy.
“And someone else.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Your grandfather.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He wanted a child with three bloodlines.”
My father nodded.
“Whitmore.”
The woman pointed toward herself.
“Hayes.”
Then she pointed at me.
“And yours.”
I couldn't understand.
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather believed that one bloodline was too unstable.”
She took another step.
“He wanted to combine three compatible genetic sequences.”
“For the inheritance?”
“No.”
Her eyes filled with fear.
“For control.”
I looked at the children.
Claire was staring at her.
Emily was sleeping.
The third baby was awake.
Watching the woman.
The woman looked at the third baby.
“That's the one.”
I tightened my arms.
“What?”
“She is the successful version.”
“Successful version of what?”
“Me.”
I froze.
She walked toward the baby.
“The original Subject 00 failed.”
I remembered Dr. Hayes.
Then the laboratory.
Then the baby in my grandfather's arms.
“Dr. Hayes?”
The woman shook her head.
“She wasn't the first.”
“Who was?”
She looked at me.
“Me.”
I couldn't speak.
“My name was Evelyn.”
The name meant nothing.
But something about hearing it made my chest hurt.
“Why do you look like me?”
“Because you were built from me.”
I looked at my father.
“Then why did you let me grow up believing I was normal?”
He looked ashamed.
“Because I wanted you to be.”
“You lied to me.”
“I was trying to give you a life.”
“You gave me a life built on lies.”
He lowered his eyes.
Evelyn stepped closer.
“Your father tried to destroy the project.”
I looked at him.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you destroy me?”
He looked at me.
“Because I couldn't.”
“Why?”
“You were my daughter.”
I shook my head.
“You said I wasn't.”
“I said I wasn't your biological father.”
He took a breath.
“But I raised you.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“You were still my father.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then the hospital shook violently.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Claire screamed.
“Mommy!”
I grabbed her.
The third baby began crying.
The countdown on a wall monitor flashed.
08:12.
Eight minutes.
I looked at Evelyn.
“What happens at zero?”
She answered immediately.
“The underground laboratory is destroyed.”
“And the babies?”
“All genetic samples are destroyed.”
I looked at the twenty-three children outside.
“And them?”
She nodded.
“They die too.”
My heart pounded.
“How do we stop it?”
Evelyn walked toward the main terminal.
“There is one way.”
“What?”
“Complete the genetic transfer.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
“If you don't, the system will continue the countdown.”
“And if we do?”
“The system unlocks.”
“Then why haven't they done it already?”
“Because it requires the original mother.”
I froze.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“What do I have to do?”
Evelyn pointed toward a chair.
“Sit.”
I stared at it.
“No.”
“Emma.”
“I won't let them use me again.”
“They won't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I'm not them.”
She opened a hidden compartment beneath the terminal.
Inside was a small silver device.
She handed it to me.
“This doesn't activate the system.”
“Then what does it do?”
“It gives you control.”
I stared at the device.
“Control over what?”
“The project.”
I looked at my father.
He nodded.
“She's telling the truth.”
I took the device.
A small screen lit up.
IDENTITY REQUIRED.
I touched it.
The screen scanned my fingerprint.
Then my eye.
Then my blood.
A message appeared.
WELCOME, PRIMARY SUBJECT.
I froze.
Primary subject.
Not mother.
Not heir.
Subject.
Evelyn whispered,
“They always called you Subject 01.”
I looked at her.
“Then what was Claire?”
“Subject 02.”
“Emily?”
“Subject 03.”
“And the third baby?”
Evelyn looked at her.
“Subject 04.”
I stared.
“Then why did my grandfather call her Subject 00?”
“Because he lied.”
“Why?”
“Because Subject 00 is the only person who can shut the project down.”
I looked at Evelyn.
“Who is Subject 00?”
She touched her own chest.
“Me.”
The room went silent.
I stared.
“But you said you were the prototype.”
“I am.”
“Then why are you Subject 00?”
“Because I was the first.”
She stepped toward me.
“And you were the last.”
A loud explosion shook the hospital.
The ceiling cracked.
My father looked at the timer.
06:41.
“We're running out of time.”
I looked at the silver device.
“How do I stop it?”
Evelyn pointed toward the terminal.
“Put your hand there.”
I did.
The screen changed.
PRIMARY SUBJECT DETECTED.
Then another message.
CHOOSE SUCCESSION.
Three options appeared.
CLAIRE.
EMILY.
SUBJECT 04.
I stared.
“What is this?”
Evelyn's face became serious.
“The system wants you to choose which daughter inherits.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You have to.”
“I won't choose between my children.”
“If you don't, the system will choose for you.”
“What happens then?”
Evelyn whispered,
“It kills the other two.”
My blood ran cold.
“No.”
The timer dropped.
05:59.
05:58.
I looked at Claire.
She was holding my hand.
I looked at Emily.
She was sleeping against my father's chest.
Then I looked at the third baby.
Her eyes were open.
She was staring at the screen.
I whispered,
“I won't choose.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Good.”
“What?”
She smiled.
“That's the answer.”
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
“The system was designed to force a mother to choose.”
“Why?”
“Because they believed a mother would always protect the strongest child.”
She pointed toward the terminal.
“But you don't have to play by their rules.”
She reached for the silver device.
“Give it to me.”
I handed it over.
She inserted it into the terminal.
The screen flickered.
ERROR.
GENETIC CONFLICT.
Evelyn smiled.
“Exactly.”
The system began malfunctioning.
Warning lights flashed.
My grandfather's voice suddenly came through the speakers.
“STOP!”
I froze.
He sounded furious.
Evelyn looked at the ceiling.
“He's connected.”
My grandfather shouted through the intercom.
“Emma, listen to me!”
I didn't answer.
“You don't know what you're doing!”
I laughed bitterly.
“Neither did you.”
“You'll kill them!”
“No.”
“You'll destroy everything!”
“That's the point.”
The screen suddenly displayed a new warning.
SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED.
AUTHORIZATION:
SUBJECT 00.
My grandfather screamed.
“NO!”
The entire facility went silent.
Then the locks released.
One by one.
The underground doors opened.
The twenty-three babies were no longer trapped.
I looked at Evelyn.
“We did it.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“What?”
She pointed toward the terminal.
The screen showed one final message.
PROJECT MOTHER TERMINATED.
PROJECT HEIR:
ACTIVE.
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Evelyn looked terrified.
“It means this wasn't the main project.”
“What?”
She pointed at another file.
PROJECT HEIR.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
A little boy.
About seven years old.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A small crescent-shaped mark beneath his ear.
My blood froze.
“Who is he?”
Evelyn didn't answer.
I scrolled down.
The file contained one name.
ADRIAN WHITMORE.
I stared.
“No.”
Another line appeared.
GENETIC TEMPLATE: SUBJECT 00.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Adrian is a clone?”
She shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
She looked at me.
“He was created from the same project.”
My mind reeled.
“That means…”
“Yes.”
“Adrian isn't a Whitmore.”
“No.”
“Then whose son is he?”
Evelyn's expression changed.
She looked toward my father.
He was staring at the file.
Then she whispered,
“Yours.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Adrian was created from your genetic material.”
My entire world stopped.
“That can't be.”
“It is.”
“He's my husband.”
“I know.”
“He's not my son.”
“No.”
Evelyn took a breath.
“He was created from you.”
I stared at the screen.
The file displayed a date.
The date was twenty-three years ago.
I was only a few months old.
Then another line appeared.
PROJECT HEIR: PAIR WITH PRIMARY SUBJECT.
I couldn't breathe.
“They planned our marriage.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Before either of you could walk.”
I looked toward the hallway.
Adrian was standing there.
He had heard everything.
His face was completely white.
“Emma…”
I couldn't look at him.
“You knew.”
“I didn't.”
“You knew something.”
“I knew my family had secrets.”
“But not this?”
“No.”
I finally looked at him.
His eyes were filled with horror.
“Then why did you marry me?”
He whispered,
“Because I loved you.”
The building shook again.
The timer flashed.
02:14.
Evelyn looked at the screen.
“We're not done.”
“What now?”
She pointed toward the final file.
ADRIAN WHITMORE:
ACTIVATION PENDING.
I stared.
“Activation?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if it activates?”
Evelyn's face went pale.
“He becomes the new administrator.”
“Of the project?”
“No.”
She looked at the three girls.
“Of the inheritance.”
Then the hospital speakers crackled.
My grandfather's voice returned.
But this time he wasn't angry.
He was laughing.
“You finally understand, Emma.”
I looked up.
He continued.
“Now ask yourself why I let Adrian fall in love with you.”
Silence.
Then he said:
“Because he was never supposed to be your husband.”
A pause.
“He was supposed to be your replacement.”
The screen suddenly went black.
Then one final message appeared.
ADRIAN ACTIVATION:
00:10.
My husband looked at me.
His eyes widened.
“Emma…”
I stepped backward.
Adrian grabbed his head.
“Something's wrong.”
His body suddenly stiffened.
I screamed his name.
“ADRIAN!”
His eyes opened.
But they were no longer brown.
They were completely black.
And when he looked at me...
he smiled.
Not my husband.
Not the man I knew.
Something else.
May you like
Then he whispered:
“Hello, Mother.”
