PART 5

The timer was still counting down.
29:41.
29:40.
29:39.
I stood in the basement staring at the screen, unable to move.
Sophie and Ruby were alive.
That was the only thing that mattered.
For the moment.
“Where is the address?” Julian asked.
I showed him my phone.
His face changed when he saw it.
“You know this place?”
He nodded.
“It’s the old house.”
“I know.”
“No, Isabelle. You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
He looked at Patricia.
Then at me.
“That house wasn’t just where you lived with Graham.”
My stomach tightened.
“What was it?”
Julian took a breath.
“It was where everything started.”
I stared at him.
“Everything?”

“The experiments. The medical records. Elena.”

The room seemed to shrink around us.

“You said you thought Elena was dead.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what your mother told me.”

“My mother lied.”

“Yes.”

“And you believed her?”

“I was twenty-nine years old. I didn’t know what was happening. I was trying to protect you.”

“You protected me by keeping my sister’s existence secret?”

“I thought she was dead!”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

Julian looked at the timer.

28:52.

“We don’t have much time.”

“Then talk while we drive.”

We ran upstairs.

Patricia grabbed the files.

I grabbed the brass key.

Julian took the car keys.

Before we left, I stopped.

“Wait.”

I ran upstairs to the girls’ room.

Their beds were empty.

Their blankets were still warm.

I touched Sophie’s pillow.

For one second, I imagined her lying there again, laughing about something stupid.

Ruby’s stuffed rabbit was on the floor.

I picked it up.

Then I saw something underneath it.

A tiny folded piece of paper.

My name was written on it.

Mom.

I opened it.

There was only one sentence.

Don’t trust the man who looks like Dad.

I froze.

Julian came into the doorway.

“What is it?”

I handed him the note.

He read it.

His face became pale.

“What?”

He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Julian.”

“Let’s go.”

“No.”

I stepped in front of him.

“You know something.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying.”

He looked at me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he said quietly,

“Sophie is smarter than we realize.”

“What does that mean?”

“She may have seen something.”

“What?”

“Something she wasn’t supposed to see.”

I felt a chill.

“Before she was taken?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

Julian looked away.

“When Sophie was in the hospital, she once asked me why there were two men who looked like me.”

I stared at him.

“What?”

“I thought it was confusion from medication.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to frighten you.”

“Julian.”

He finally looked at me.

“She said one of them visited her room at night.”

My blood ran cold.

“When?”

“About two weeks before the kidnapping.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I thought it was a hallucination.”

“Did she describe him?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“She said he had your eyes.”

I stopped breathing.

“My eyes?”

Julian nodded.

“She said he told her he was family.”

I looked toward the stairs.

Then at the timer on my phone.

27:48.

We had less than half an hour.

I opened the front door.

Two police officers were waiting outside.

One stepped toward me.

“Ms. Hayes, we’re coming with you.”

“Fine.”

“Where are you going?”

“The old Pierce house.”

His expression changed.

“Why?”

“My daughters are being held there.”

“Do you know who has them?”

“No.”

“Then you’re not going alone.”

I nodded.

“Good.”

We got into two vehicles.

I drove with Julian.

Patricia sat in the passenger seat.

One police car followed.

The other went ahead.

The drive felt endless.

The city blurred around us.

I kept looking at the timer.

24:16.

24:15.

24:14.

“Julian.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me everything.”

He didn’t answer.

“Now.”

He stared through the windshield.

“When you were twenty, your mother brought you to the hospital after the accident.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know the whole story.”

“Then tell me.”

“You hadn’t been in a car accident.”

I turned toward him.

“What?”

“You were found unconscious near the old house.”

My hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“What old house?”

“The Pierce house.”

“Why was I there?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do.”

“I know what I was told.”

“Tell me.”

Julian swallowed.

“You had been there with your mother.”

“Why?”

“She said you had discovered something.”

“What?”

“She never told me.”

I shook my head.

“Why were you there?”

“She asked me to come.”

“When?”

“The night before you disappeared.”

I stared at him.

“You were there?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“I saw your mother arguing with Graham’s father.”

“About Elena?”

“I didn’t know who Elena was.”

“What were they arguing about?”

Julian’s voice dropped.

“Your mother wanted to take you away.”

“From whom?”

“From Graham’s family.”

I felt something cold move through me.

“Why?”

“Because they had found out you knew about the babies.”

“The babies?”

“Not Sophie and Ruby.”

My heart stopped.

“Elena?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t speak.

Julian continued.

“Your mother told me she had discovered a secret medical program.”

“What program?”

“I don’t know the full name.”

“Julian!”

“Something called Project Hayes.”

My grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“We found those words in the hidden room.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“Because I saw them once.”

“When?”

“Twenty years ago.”

I looked at him.

“Twenty years?”

He nodded.

“You weren’t supposed to know any of this.”

“Apparently neither was I.”

Silence filled the car.

Then Patricia spoke from the passenger seat.

“There.”

She pointed ahead.

The old house appeared at the end of the road.

My chest tightened.

I hadn’t seen it in eleven years.

The white paint had faded.

The windows were dark.

The garden had become overgrown.

The house looked abandoned.

But I knew better.

Someone was inside.

We stopped.

The police officers got out first.

I opened my door.

Julian grabbed my arm.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“If that man is inside…”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t.”

He looked at me.

“He isn’t just dangerous.”

“What is he?”

Julian’s face was pale.

“He’s obsessed with you.”

I pulled my arm away.

“I don’t care.”

I stepped toward the house.

“I care about my daughters.”

The front door was unlocked.

We entered.

The smell hit me first.

Dust.

Old wood.

Something metallic.

And beneath it all, a faint hospital smell.

Antiseptic.

My stomach turned.

“Stay behind us,” one officer said.

We moved through the hallway.

Everything looked smaller than I remembered.

The staircase.

The dining room.

The kitchen.

Then I saw the blue door.

At the end of the hallway.

My heart began pounding.

It was exactly as I remembered it.

Except now I knew I had seen it before.

I walked toward it.

The brass key was still in my hand.

But the door was already open.

Inside was a child’s bedroom.

A crib.

Old toys.

A faded mobile.

And photographs.

Hundreds of them.

I picked one up.

It showed my mother holding a newborn baby.

Elena.

Another showed Graham’s father standing beside a medical bed.

Another showed me.

I was nineteen.

Unconscious.

Connected to machines.

I dropped it.

“No.”

Patricia picked it up.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

She looked at the photograph.

“You weren’t twenty when this happened.”

I stared at her.

“How old was I?”

“Nineteen.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

She pointed at the date.

December 2008.

I stared at it.

My entire understanding of my childhood collapsed.

“I thought my accident happened in September.”

“It didn’t.”

“What happened in September?”

Patricia flipped through the files.

“Nothing.”

“Then why do I remember it?”

“Because someone may have changed your memories.”

The room became silent.

Then we heard something upstairs.

A child’s voice.

“Mom?”

I ran.

“Sophie!”

I sprinted up the stairs.

The officers followed.

We reached the second floor.

A door slammed.

I opened it.

Empty.

Another door.

Empty.

Then I heard crying.

Ruby.

I followed the sound.

It came from the attic.

We rushed up.

The attic door was locked.

I tried the key.

It didn’t fit.

One officer kicked the door.

It burst open.

Inside were dozens of boxes.

But no children.

Then a television turned on.

The screen showed Sophie and Ruby.

They were sitting in a room.

Sophie was holding Ruby’s hand.

A clock behind them showed:

18:07

I looked at my phone.

18:07.

The video was live.

Then the man appeared behind them.

The man who looked like Julian.

He smiled.

“You found the house.”

“Where are my daughters?”

“Safe.”

“Let them go.”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t found Elena.”

“Where is she?”

“You’re standing in her room.”

I looked around.

The attic.

The boxes.

The old furniture.

“This isn’t her room.”

He smiled.

“You’re still thinking of rooms as places.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Elena is closer than you think.”

The screen went black.

Then a second camera appeared.

It showed a hospital corridor.

I recognized it immediately.

Seattle Children’s Hospital.

My blood ran cold.

“No.”

The camera moved.

Past the oncology unit.

Past the nurses’ station.

Then stopped at a door.

A patient room.

The name on the door was:

ELENA HAYES.

I couldn’t breathe.

“She’s in the hospital.”

Patricia stared at the screen.

“How?”

The video changed.

A medical chart appeared.

PATIENT: ELENA HAYES

AGE: 29

ADMISSION: UNKNOWN

NEXT OF KIN: REBECCA HAYES

I stared at the name.

“My mother.”

Then the screen changed again.

A DNA report appeared.

BIOLOGICAL RELATIONSHIP: 99.99%

Underneath:

ELENA HAYES — ISABELLE HAYES

I felt dizzy.

“She is my sister.”

Julian looked at the screen.

“No.”

I turned toward him.

“What?”

“That isn’t possible.”

“You knew she existed.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t know she was alive.”

“No.”

“Then how do you know this is impossible?”

He stared at the screen.

“Because Elena wasn’t twenty-nine.”

“What?”

“She was a baby.”

My heart stopped.

“Exactly.”

Patricia looked between us.

“Then whose medical record is this?”

Nobody answered.

The screen went black.

A message appeared.

YOU HAVE 10 MINUTES.

Then:

COME TO ROOM 417.

I looked at Patricia.

“Room 417?”

She nodded slowly.

“That’s the room next to where Sophie was treated.”

I suddenly remembered something.

Sophie had been in Room 412.

Room 417 had been empty.

Or so I thought.

We rushed out of the attic.

Back into the hallway.

Down the stairs.

Outside.

The police vehicles followed us toward the hospital.

I called Dr. Whitman.

She answered immediately.

“Isabelle?”

“Dr. Whitman, do you have a patient named Elena Hayes?”

Silence.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Answer me.”

“Isabelle, you need to come to the hospital.”

“She’s there.”

Another pause.

“Yes.”

My heart stopped.

“How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She requested privacy.”

“She’s my sister.”

The doctor became silent.

Then she said,

“That’s what she claims.”

My blood went cold.

“What?”

“She says she knows you.”

“Does she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Dr. Whitman.”

“Come here.”

The line ended.

We reached the hospital in minutes.

I ran through the entrance.

Nurses turned as I passed.

I reached Room 417.

The door was closed.

I opened it.

There was a woman sitting beside the window.

Her back was toward me.

She slowly turned.

I stopped.

She looked like my mother.

But younger.

Much younger.

Her eyes were the same.

Her face was the same.

Even the tiny scar above her eyebrow.

I whispered,

“Rebecca?”

She smiled.

“No.”

Her voice trembled.

“My name is Elena.”

I couldn’t move.

She stood.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

I stared at her.

“How old are you?”

She looked at the floor.

“Twenty-nine.”

My heart pounded.

“How?”

She didn’t answer.

“Who are you?”

She stepped closer.

“I’m the daughter your mother gave away.”

“Where?”

“To Graham’s family.”

My stomach turned.

“What?”

Elena nodded.

“They raised me.”

I stared at her.

“That’s impossible.”

“No.”

She reached into a drawer.

She pulled out a photograph.

It showed three newborn babies.

Sophie.

Ruby.

And Elena.

But this photograph was different.

There was another person standing behind the babies.

Graham.

And he wasn’t smiling.

He was holding a document.

Elena pointed to it.

“Do you know what that is?”

“No.”

“Your consent form.”

My blood ran cold.

“My consent?”

“For the experiment.”

“What experiment?”

She looked at me.

“The one that changed all of us.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“What did they do?”

Elena’s eyes filled with tears.

“They didn’t just switch your birth control.”

She whispered,

“They changed the embryos.”

I stared at her.

“They created us.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible.”

“They took eggs from your mother.”

My stomach dropped.

“They used your mother’s genetic material.”

“But how?”

“She was part of a fertility experiment.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

“She wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because you were part of it too.”

The room spun.

“What do you mean?”

Elena reached for my hand.

I almost pulled away.

She whispered,

“You weren’t their first daughter.”

My heart stopped.

“You were their first experiment.”

The door behind me suddenly slammed shut.

I turned.

The lock clicked.

Elena stepped backward.

A speaker crackled overhead.

The man’s voice returned.

“Congratulations, Isabelle.”

I stared at the ceiling.

“You finally found her.”

Then another voice came through.

A voice I hadn’t heard in years.

Graham.

“Now we can begin.”

My blood ran cold.

“Graham?”

Elena covered her mouth.

The speaker continued.

“You thought I wanted custody because I hated you.”

I couldn’t speak.

“I wanted custody because I needed to control the evidence.”

“What evidence?”

Graham laughed softly.

“The girls.”

I looked at Elena.

He continued.

“Sophie.”

“Ruby.”

“And Elena.”

I stepped toward the speaker.

“Where are my daughters?”

“You already know.”

“No.”

“They’re in the blue room.”

My stomach dropped.

“Which blue room?”

Graham laughed.

“The one you forgot.”

The lights went out.

Elena screamed.

I grabbed her hand.

“Stay with me.”

The emergency lights came on.

Red.

Flashing.

Then the hospital doors unlocked.

Someone ran down the corridor.

A nurse screamed.

“Security!”

I heard footsteps.

Fast.

Coming toward us.

Then the door opened.

Julian appeared.

“Isabelle!”

I ran to him.

“Where are Sophie and Ruby?”

He looked at Elena.

Then at me.

His face changed.

“That’s not Elena.”

I froze.

“What?”

Julian pointed at the woman beside me.

“That isn’t your sister.”

Elena stepped backward.

“What are you talking about?”

Julian stared at her.

“I know her.”

“You said you didn’t.”

“I didn’t know her like this.”

“What does that mean?”

He looked at me.

“Her name isn’t Elena.”

The woman began crying.

“Yes, it is.”

Julian shook his head.

“No.”

He whispered another name.

A name that made the woman collapse against the wall.

“Rebecca.”

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

Then she whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

The room went silent.

Julian closed the door.

“Isabelle, listen to me.”

“What?”

“The woman your mother told you about…”

He looked at the stranger.

“She isn’t your sister.”

“Then who is she?”

Julian swallowed.

“She is your mother.”

My mind went blank.

“No.”

He nodded.

“Your mother isn’t dead.”

The woman looked at me with tears running down her face.

“I didn’t know how to come back.”

I stepped toward her.

“You’ve been pretending to be dead?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Graham was going to kill me.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Where are my daughters?”

She looked at Julian.

Then at me.

And whispered,

“Graham has them.”

“I know.”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“You don’t understand.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t want to hurt them.”

“Then what does he want?”

She closed her eyes.

“He wants to use them to finish what he started with you.”

My heart stopped.

“What did he start?”

She opened her eyes.

“The experiment.”

A siren sounded in the hallway.

Then every light in the hospital flickered.

The speaker came alive one more time.

Graham’s voice filled the room.

“Isabelle.”

I looked up.

“You have five minutes.”

“For what?”

“To decide which daughter lives.”

The line went dead.

I screamed.

“No!”

Elena grabbed my arm.

“Don’t listen to him.”

“What did he mean?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

“Then who does?”

She looked at my mother.

My mother looked at me.

And finally she said the words I had been waiting my entire life to hear.

“I know.”

I stared at her.

“Then tell me.”

She began crying.

“The girls aren’t his real target.”

“Then who is?”

She looked directly at me.

“You.”

The hospital lights flickered again.

Somewhere in the building, an alarm began screaming.

And then my phone received one final photograph.

Sophie and Ruby were sitting in the same room.

But this time there was someone sitting between them.

A little girl.

Maybe four years old.

She had Sophie’s eyes.

Ruby’s smile.

And my face.

Underneath the photograph were three words:

THE FOURTH DAUGHTER.

I stared at the image.

My mother whispered,

“That’s impossible.”

I turned toward her.

“Why?”

She covered her face.

“Because I thought she died.”

The photograph disappeared from my screen.

A countdown appeared.

04:59

04:58

04:57

And I finally understood.

The secret wasn’t that there had been three babies.

There had been four.

And one of them was still alive.

Somewhere.

With my daughters.

And Graham had just given me five minutes to find her.