Chapter 9: Subject 001
The words followed me upstairs.
*SUBJECT 001.*
I couldn't stop staring at them.
Michael spread the photograph across the kitchen table.
Dad stood behind him.
Mom sat in silence.
Nobody seemed willing to speak first.
Finally, I did.
“What is Subject 001?””
Michael answered carefully.
“A designation.””
“For what?””
“For the first successful participant in the project.””
I stared at him.
“Participant?””
He didn't answer.
Mom did.
“Experiment.””
The word hung in the air.
I felt sick.
“So I was an experiment.””
“No,” Mom said immediately.
“But they called me Subject 001.””
“They wanted you to be.””
I pointed at the photograph.
“Then why was I wearing that hospital tag?””
Mom closed her eyes.
“Because they took you.””
“What?””
“When you were born.””
Her voice broke.
“They took you from me.””
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
“Who?””
“Blackridge.””
Dad stepped forward.
“I got you back.””
“How?””
He looked at the photograph.
“Your mother called Ethan.””
“That's impossible.””
“He was still alive then.””
I looked at him.
“So Ethan was my biological father?””
“No.””
“Then why did he help?””
“Because he loved your mother.””
Mom began crying.
“He risked everything.””
I sat down.
“Tell me everything.””
Mom looked at Michael.
He nodded.
She took a long breath.
“You were born at St. Vincent's Hospital.””
I stared.
“That hospital closed years ago.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because Blackridge owned part of it.””
My stomach tightened.
“When you were born, doctors told me you needed observation.””
“But you knew something was wrong.””
“Yes.””
“What?””
“They took blood from you.””
Michael said, “Hundreds of samples.””
Mom nodded.
“They told me you were sick.””
“I wasn't.””
“No.””
She looked at me.
“You were perfectly healthy.””
“Then why?””
“Because your blood reacted differently to a compound they had developed.””
I remembered Victor's words.
“Neurological toxin.””
Mom nodded.
“They believed your genetic mutation could neutralize it.””
Michael added, “If they could replicate the response, they could create an antidote.””
“And a weapon.””
“Yes.””
I stared at the photograph.
“So Blackridge wanted my blood.””
“They wanted your entire genetic sequence.””
Dad's voice was low.
“They wanted you alive.””
“Why?””
“Because your body kept producing the marker.””
I felt nauseous.
“And Victor?””
Mom looked down.
“He was one of the scientists.””
I stared.
“He was your partner?””
“Yes.””
“Was he the one who created the toxin?””
Mom shook her head.
“He created the antidote.””
I frowned.
“What?””
Victor's voice came from the doorway.
“I told you.””
Everyone spun around.
He stood there alone.
No weapon.
No fear.
Michael raised his gun.
“How did you get in?””
Victor smiled.
“Your security was never very good.””
Dad stepped between him and me.
“You're not touching her.””
Victor looked at him.
“I'm not here to hurt her.””
“You killed Ethan.””
Victor's face hardened.
“And you stole his name.””
“Because of you.””
Victor ignored him.
He looked at me.
“Emily, your mother is leaving something out.””
Mom stood.
“Don't.””
“You deserve to know.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
Victor said, “She didn't just discover the project.””
He pointed toward the photograph.
“She helped design it.””
My mother's face went white.
I couldn't speak.
“Is that true?””
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
“I worked on the original research.””
“So you made me?””
“No.””
“You made the experiment.””
“I didn't know what they would do with it.””
Victor laughed.
“You always say that.””
Mom screamed.
“I didn't know!””
Victor's expression softened.
“You found out.””
“Yes.””
“And you ran.””
“Yes.””
“And then you took the one thing they needed.””
Mom looked at me.
“My daughter.””
Victor nodded.
“And I wanted her back.””
I stepped toward him.
“Why?””
His expression changed.
“Because she is the only proof that Blackridge's research worked.””
Michael lowered his weapon slightly.
“What proof?””
Victor looked at him.
“You'll find out.””
Then he looked at me.
“There's a reason your memories were never erased.””
I froze.
“What?””
Mom whispered, “No.””
Victor smiled.
“They tried.””
My hands went cold.
“You erased my memories?””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“Blackridge did.””
I looked at Mom.
“Is that true?””
She nodded.
“You were three.””
“Why can I remember now?””
Victor answered.
“Because the conditioning is wearing off.””
“What conditioning?””
“The drug they used to suppress your memories.””
Michael stepped closer.
“Victor, enough.””
“No.””
Victor's voice became fierce.
“She needs to remember.””
He pulled a small device from his pocket.
A tiny red light blinked.
Mom screamed.
“Don't turn it on!””
Victor pressed a button.
A high-pitched tone filled the room.
I dropped to my knees.
Pain exploded behind my eyes.
The kitchen vanished.
I was three years old.
I was standing in the basement.
Mom was screaming.
Ethan was bleeding.
Victor was kneeling in front of me.
And another man stood behind him.
The director from the photograph.
He leaned toward me.
“Do you know what you are, Emily?””
Little me shook her head.
He smiled.
“You are the key.””
Then he turned toward Victor.
“Start the procedure.””
I screamed.
The memory changed.
A needle.
A red light.
A blue rabbit.
Mom breaking through a door.
Ethan grabbing me.
Gunshots.
Fire.
Then another memory.
One I'd never seen before.
I was sitting on a metal table.
Victor was holding my hand.
He was crying.
“I'm sorry.””
The director stood behind him.
“Do it.””
Victor shook his head.
“I won't.””
“You will.””
“No.””
The director pulled a gun.
Victor looked at me.
Then at the needle.
He whispered:
“Emily, when I tell you to run, don't look back.””
The memory shattered.
I woke on the kitchen floor.
Mom was holding me.
Michael was shouting.
“Emily! Stay with me!””
I gasped.
Victor stood frozen across the room.
I looked at him.
“You saved me.””
He didn't answer.
“You didn't want to do it.””
His eyes filled with tears.
“No.””
Dad stared at Victor.
“You still killed Ethan.””
Victor's expression hardened.
“I know.””
“Why?””
“Because Ethan tried to take her before I could.””
“You could have protected him.””
“I chose wrong.””
Silence.
I slowly stood.
“You said my mother was lying.””
“She was.””
Mom looked down.
“What else did you hide?””
Victor answered.
“The director wasn't the only person involved.””
Michael frowned.
“Who else?””
Victor looked directly at me.
“The person who ordered your mother into witness protection.””
Michael went pale.
“No.””
Victor nodded.
“Yes.””
“Who?””
Victor smiled.
“The man who has been protecting Emily for seventeen years.””
Michael's face drained of color.
I stared at him.
“You?””
Michael didn't answer.
Victor continued.
“Michael didn't save you from Blackridge.””
He stepped backward.
“He was assigned to watch you.””
I looked at Michael.
“Is that true?””
His silence was answer enough.
My chest tightened.
“You've been watching me?””
“Yes.””
“Since I was three?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Michael swallowed.
“Because someone had to.””
“Who ordered you?””
He looked at Mom.
Then Dad.
Then me.
“I can't tell you.””
I stepped closer.
“You owe me the truth.””
Michael finally spoke.
“The order came from someone inside the government.””
“Who?””
Before he could answer, every phone in the house rang at once.
Michael froze.
Dad reached for his weapon.
Mom whispered, “No.””
The ringing stopped.
Then one phone began playing a recorded message.
A woman's voice filled the kitchen.
“Emily Carter, if you're hearing this, Michael has failed.””
Michael's face went white.
The voice continued.
“Your mother was never placed in witness protection to protect her.””
A pause.
“She was placed there to protect you from your own father.””
Dad stepped backward.
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?””
The recording continued.
“Daniel Mercer is not the man you think he is.””
Dad's face collapsed.
Then the voice said the words that shattered everything:
“Because Ethan Carter was never Emily's father.””
A final click.
The recording ended.
I looked at Dad.
Then at Victor.
Then at Mom.
And suddenly, every lie I'd been told seemed to point toward one impossible question.
If Victor wasn't my father…
May you like
and Ethan wasn't my father…
then *who was?*
