CHAPTER 13: THE CHILD I WAS SUPPOSED TO FORGET
“You were the one who killed the first child.”
The words echoed through the control room.
I couldn't move.
My son stared at me.
My daughter covered her mouth.
Marcus looked between us, trying to understand something that even I couldn't understand.
Then I laughed.
A small, broken laugh.
“No.”
The young man on the screen looked at me.
“You don't remember.”
“I would remember something like that.”
“You remember what they allowed you to remember.”
My father appeared on another monitor.
His expression was calm.
Almost gentle.
That made it worse.
“Claire,” he said, “you didn't kill him.”
I looked at the screen.
“Then why did he say I did?”
My father smiled.
“Because he was told that story.”
The young man's face tightened.
“You said she killed him.”
My father looked at him.
“I said she caused his death.”
I felt something snap inside me.
“What are you talking about?”
My father sighed.
“Project Mirror had an original subject.”
The young man stepped closer to the camera.
“Me.”
“No,” my father said.
The young man's expression changed.
“You weren't the first.”
Silence.
My father continued.
“You were the second.”
The young man stared at him.
“Then who was the first?”
My father didn't answer.
My daughter suddenly whispered:
“Mom…”
I looked at her.
“I remember.”
“What?”
“The red room.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You were there.”
I felt a strange pressure behind my eyes.
Then the memory came.
Not slowly.
All at once.
A red room.
A hospital bed.
Three incubators.
Three newborn babies.
My father standing beside me.
Richard holding a clipboard.
Daniel near the door.
And me...
Screaming.
I remembered grabbing my father's shirt.
“You promised me!”
My younger voice.
Angry.
Terrified.
“You promised there would be no more experiments.”
My father looked at me.
“You're emotional.”
“Those are children!”
“They are subjects.”
“No!”
I remembered the sound of glass breaking.
Richard grabbing my arm.
Daniel pulling me away.
Then a baby crying.
One of the incubators was empty.
I remembered looking inside.
Nothing.
My memory stopped there.
I grabbed my head.
“Where's the rest?”
My father spoke.
“You erased it.”
“Why?”
“Because you couldn't live with what you had done.”
I looked at him.
“What did I do?”
He didn't answer.
The young man did.
“You chose.”
I stared at him.
“You chose which baby lived.”
My daughter began crying.
“No…”
My son looked at me.
“Mom wouldn't do that.”
The young man smiled sadly.
“That's what I thought too.”
I looked at him.
“Who are you?”
He stepped closer to the camera.
“My name is Adrian.”
My heart stopped.
“Adrian.”
He nodded.
“Your firstborn.”
I couldn't breathe.
“You're twenty?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did I never know you existed?”
“Because you weren't supposed to.”
My father looked away.
I felt sick.
“What happened to the first child?”
Adrian's expression changed.
“She died.”
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“My sister.”
My daughter froze.
“Another sister?”
Adrian nodded.
“Before you.”
I stared.
“There were four children?”
“Four.”
The room went silent.
My son looked terrified.
My daughter whispered:
“I don't remember her.”
“Of course you don't.”
Adrian looked at her.
“You were babies.”
My father finally spoke.
“Your mother wasn't supposed to remember any of them.”
I turned toward the screen.
“Why?”
“Because you discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That the children weren't created for Project Mirror.”
“Then why?”
My father hesitated.
“Because the archive required living biological keys.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
My father looked at him.
“The archive is not digital.”
Marcus frowned.
“Then what is it?”
My father smiled.
“It's biological.”
I felt cold.
“The children?”
“No.”
He looked directly at me.
“You.”
My heart stopped.
“Me?”
“You carried the original sequence.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You were born with it.”
“Then why the children?”
“Because the sequence was incomplete.”
He explained that my genetic code contained the first portion.
My son carried the memory component.
My daughter carried the activation marker.
And Adrian...
I looked at him.
“What does he carry?”
My father smiled.
“The location.”
My blood ran cold.
“Location of what?”
“The archive.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“My father used me.”
My father didn't deny it.
“He was twenty years old when they took you.”
I looked at Adrian.
“They took you from me?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you?”
“Here.”
“Under the estate?”
He nodded.
“For twenty years.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“I thought I had only one child.”
“You had four.”
I couldn't breathe.
“I was told…”
“You were lied to.”
“By Daniel?”
Adrian shook his head.
“By everyone.”
I looked at the screens.
Richard appeared.
“Enough.”
He entered the control room behind my father.
The camera angle changed.
He was standing directly behind Daniel.
A gun was pressed against my husband's head.
“Claire.”
Richard smiled.
“You have five minutes.”
“For what?”
“Bring me the three children.”
“No.”
Richard pressed the gun harder against Daniel's head.
Daniel looked at me.
“Don't.”
Richard struck him.
My daughter screamed.
I stepped forward.
“Stop!”
Richard smiled.
“Then listen.”
He looked at Adrian.
“The firstborn.”
Then my son.
“The memory.”
Then my daughter.
“The blood.”
Finally, he looked at me.
“The architect.”
I felt sick.
“You need all four.”
Richard nodded.
“Exactly.”
“What happens if I refuse?”
He smiled.
“Your husband dies.”
“And then?”
“Your children.”
My father suddenly interrupted.
“Richard.”
Richard turned.
“This isn't your decision.”
My father stood.
“It belongs to Claire.”
Richard laughed.
“You still think she belongs to you.”
My father looked at him.
“She is my daughter.”
Richard's face hardened.
“She was your weapon.”
I felt a chill.
“Was?”
Richard looked at me.
“Ask your father why he erased your memories.”
I already knew.
But not all of it.
Richard continued.
“Ask him who gave the order to erase the children.”
I looked at my father.
He said nothing.
“Dad.”
Still nothing.
“Who ordered it?”
His eyes finally met mine.
“I did.”
My heart broke.
“You ordered my memories erased?”
“Yes.”
“And the children's?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He whispered:
“Because you were going to expose us.”
I shook my head.
“You could have stopped me.”
“I tried.”
“You killed people.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed families.”
“Yes.”
“You took my children.”
“I protected the archive.”
“You protected yourself.”
He didn't deny it.
I turned away.
Something inside me had gone cold.
For twenty years, I had believed I was the victim.
But now I knew the truth.
I had once been part of the machine.
And my father had made sure I forgot.
My daughter stepped beside me.
“Mom.”
I looked at her.
“Do you hate me?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you came for me.”
My son stepped closer.
“Me too.”
Adrian remained silent.
I looked at him.
“What about you?”
He stared at me.
“I don't know.”
That hurt more than anything.
Then Marcus whispered:
“Claire.”
I turned.
He pointed toward the control console.
The black box was flashing.
A hidden file had appeared.
ARCHIVE ACCESS: FOUR SUBJECTS REQUIRED.
Underneath:
SUBJECT ONE: CLAIRE BENNETT.
SUBJECT TWO: ADRIAN BENNETT.
SUBJECT THREE: SUBJECT A.
SUBJECT FOUR: SUBJECT B.
I stared at the screen.
“Subject A?”
My son stepped closer.
His face changed.
“That's me.”
“Subject B?”
My daughter nodded.
“That's me.”
Four subjects.
Four keys.
One archive.
Then another line appeared.
WARNING: ACCESS WILL RESTORE ALL MEMORY.
My father suddenly shouted:
“Don't!”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because once you remember everything…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“You'll remember what happened to the fourth child.”
I froze.
“Fourth?”
My father looked toward Adrian.
“No.”
Adrian's face changed.
“What?”
My father lowered his voice.
“The fourth child didn't die.”
Silence.
I felt my blood turn cold.
“Then where is she?”
My father looked directly at me.
“She became the person you've trusted most.”
I stared at the screens.
Daniel.
Victoria.
Evelyn.
Marcus.
One of them.
The person who had been beside me all night.
My father's voice came through the speakers.
“And Claire…”
He smiled sadly.
“Your missing daughter has been with you this entire time.”
I turned slowly.
Behind me, someone whispered:
“Mom.”
I spun around.
My daughter was standing there.
But she wasn't looking at me.
She was staring at Evelyn.
And Evelyn was crying.
Because my daughter had just whispered:
“Grandma…”
Then she pointed at Evelyn's silver necklace.
“That belonged to her.”
Evelyn's face went white.
Adrian stepped forward.
“What did you do?”
Evelyn backed away.
My daughter began trembling.
“I remember now.”
She looked at me.
“Mom…”
Her voice broke.
“Evelyn isn't Grandma.”
I froze.
“She isn't the woman who gave birth to you.”
My daughter pointed at the silver necklace.
“She stole it.”
Then Evelyn smiled.
For the first time that night, there were no tears in her eyes.
Only coldness.
She looked at me.
And said:
“Finally.”
May you like
The doors behind her locked.
And every gun in the room turned toward us.
