Chapter 15 - The entire laboratory went silent.Emily looked down.
Water was spreading across the floor.
Her face went pale.
“No.”
Dr. Shaw rushed toward her.
“How far apart are the contractions?”
“I don't know.”
Margaret grabbed her hand.
“Emily, breathe.”
The baby's heartbeat appeared on the monitor.
Fast.
Strong.
Alive.
But another alarm was sounding beside Victoria's son.
His condition was deteriorating rapidly.
Dr. Shaw looked between the two monitors.
“They're reacting to each other.”
Emily looked confused.
“What does that mean?”
“Their genetic signals are connected.”
Richard, now surrounded by investigators, laughed.
“You see?”
Everyone turned.
Richard smiled.
“They were designed together.”
Emily glared at him.
“They were born from your experiments.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“They were born from your mother's blood.”
Margaret stared at him.
“You never understood the mutation.”
Richard smiled.
“I understood enough.”
Dr. Shaw suddenly looked at the monitor.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“The babies aren't transmitting the disease.”
“Then what?”
He zoomed in.
“They're suppressing it.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“Both children?”
“Yes.”
Emily stared.
Dr. Shaw's eyes widened.
“They don't need the Black Rose formula.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
“They are the formula.”
Silence.
Everyone understood.
Richard had spent decades trying to manufacture what nature had already created.
Emily's unborn child and Victoria's son were naturally compatible.
Not one had to die.
Both could survive.
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
He lunged toward the equipment.
Security restrained him.
“No!”
He screamed.
“You don't understand! Without the formula, the mutation will spread!”
Emily looked at him.
“Then let it be studied safely.”
Richard laughed hysterically.
“There is no safe way.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“There is.”
She looked at Raymond.
“Burn the program.”
Raymond understood.
The server room contained the original Black Rose database.
He gave the order.
One by one, the drives were destroyed.
Richard screamed as years of research disappeared.
Emily was taken upstairs.
Hours later, she gave birth.
A baby girl.
Healthy.
Loud.
Alive.
Emily held her against her chest.
Tears rolled down her face.
Margaret stood beside the bed.
Raymond was in the doorway.
Dr. Shaw stood farther away.
He couldn't stop looking at Emily.
She finally looked at him.
He lowered his eyes.
Emily whispered:
“I don't know if I can forgive you.”
“I understand.”
“But I don't hate you.”
He looked up.
For the first time, Emily smiled.
“You're still my father.”
He began to cry.
Across the hospital, Victoria's son survived the emergency treatment.
The Black Rose program was dismantled.
Richard Hayes was arrested.
The hospital board was removed.
The forged medical records were exposed.
The hidden laboratory was sealed.
And for the first time in sixteen years, Emily had the chance to live without running.
But three weeks later, she received a package.
No return address.
Inside was a single photograph.
Her newborn daughter.
Sleeping in the hospital nursery.
Emily froze.
Someone had taken the photograph without anyone noticing.
She turned it over.
Five words were written on the back.
THE FIRST PROJECT FAILED.
Her heart began pounding.
A second line appeared underneath.
THE SECOND PROJECT HAS STARTED.
Emily called Raymond.
He answered immediately.
“What happened?”
Emily's voice trembled.
“Uncle…”
“What is it?”
She looked toward the nursery window.
Her daughter was sleeping peacefully.
But across the street stood a black car.
Someone was sitting inside.
Watching.
Emily whispered:
“Someone knows about my daughter.”
Raymond's voice changed.
“Lock the door.”
Emily did.
Then her baby's eyes suddenly opened.
The tiny girl stared toward the window.
And smiled.
Emily slowly turned.
The black car was gone.
But on the nursery glass...
someone had written a single symbol with a finger.
A black rose.
Emily stared at it.
Behind her, the baby began to laugh.
And somewhere far away, a phone rang.
A man answered.
“She gave birth.”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
A woman's voice replied.
“Is the child healthy?”
The man smiled.
“Perfectly.”
“Then begin.”
The call ended.
The man opened a file.
At the top was a photograph of Emily.
Below it was another.
Her newborn daughter.
May you like
And beneath both photographs, one final line:
PROJECT BLACK ROSE: GENERATION THREE
