Chapter 16 - The Other Mother
The photograph followed me for hours.
I couldn't stop seeing it.
The woman's face.
Her arms around me.
The bracelet.
The look in her eyes.
It wasn't the look of someone holding a stranger's child.
It was the look of a mother.
I sat alone in the back of the SUV while Dad drove.
Ethan sat beside me.
Neither of us spoke.
Eventually he said, “You can ask me.”
I looked at him.
“About what?”
“Anything.”
I almost smiled.
“Can you answer?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it hurts?”
“Yes.”
I looked out the window.
“Did you know about Edward Carter?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“I don't know.”
“You knew she was stealing.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she was building Carter Ridge.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't know about the program.”
“No.”
I studied him.
“I believe you.”
He looked at me.
“But I don't forgive you.”
“I know.”
Ahead, Dad raised his hand.
Daniel was in the passenger seat.
The convoy slowed.
“What?”
Daniel turned.
“We need to stop.”
“Why?”
“Roadblock.”
Dad stared.
“Government?”
Daniel looked at the vehicles.
“Federal.”
Dad's face hardened.
“Do they have authorization?”
“They say they do.”
A car pulled alongside.
A woman stepped out.
Gray suit.
Badge.
No weapon visible.
She approached Dad's window.
“General Moretti.”
Dad lowered it slightly.
“Agent Harper.”
“I need Camila.”
I leaned forward.
“No.”
Harper looked at me.
“You are in considerable danger.”
“I've heard that.”
“This isn't a joke.”
“I know.”
She glanced at Noah.
“Bring the child too.”
Dad's expression changed.
“Absolutely not.”
Harper took a folder from her car.
She opened it.
Inside was the C-12 symbol.
“This program wasn't supposed to exist outside a closed intelligence circle.”
Dad stared.
“You're telling me it still exists.”
“Not in the way you think.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can't here.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the woods.
“Because they have access to federal channels.”
Dad lowered his voice.
“Who is they?”
Harper looked at me.
“The people who built Carter.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Is Diane one of them?”
“No.”
“Voss?”
“Yes.”
“Richard Vale?”
Harper hesitated.
“Once.”
“Once?”
“He left.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
Dad stared.
“That was the year Camila disappeared from the relocation system.”
Harper nodded.
“Yes.”
“Where did he go?”
“He didn't disappear.”
She closed the folder.
“He changed sides.”
I frowned.
“Whose side?”
“Yours.”
I didn't believe her.
“Then why is he hunting us?”
“He isn't.”
“Then who is?”
Harper's eyes moved to Dad.
“Someone your father trusted.”
Silence.
Dad looked at me.
I knew before she said the name.
“Nathan Reed.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“He's dead.”
Harper shook her head.
“The man buried under his name is dead.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“Reed disappeared years ago.”
“Then who died?”
“An operative.”
Dad whispered, “No.”
Harper nodded.
“He took Reed's identity to disappear.”
“Where is he now?”
Harper looked at me.
“He is running Project Carter.”
My blood ran cold.
Dad looked toward the road.
“Then why are you telling us?”
“Because he's moving tonight.”
“Where?”
Harper handed Dad a location.
“An old children's facility.”
I knew before she finished.
The picture.
The hallway.
The bracelet.
“The place in my photograph.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“What happens there?”
Harper's voice lowered.
“Whatever Project Carter was supposed to become.”
We arrived after dark.
The building stood abandoned behind a chain-link fence.
I stepped out.
A strange familiarity hit me.
I knew the path.
I knew where the side entrance would be.
I knew the broken window.
I knew the hallway.
Ethan watched me.
“How do you know?”
“I don't know.”
I moved anyway.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Then I saw a mural.
Colored stars.
Children's names.
One name had been scratched away.
Camila Moretti.
Below it, another name remained.
Elena Carter.
I touched the wall.
“Who's Elena?”
Dad appeared behind me.
He didn't answer.
“Dad.”
He swallowed.
“Your mother.”
“No.”
“Your mother was Elena.”
I shook my head.
“My mother was Maria.”
“That was her cover identity.”
I stepped back.
“Why?”
“Because she was hiding from Carter.”
“From her own program?”
“Yes.”
A sound came from the far room.
A child's toy.
Music.
Then silence.
Dad raised his weapon.
We moved toward it.
There was a nursery.
Rows of empty cribs.
On one wall were photographs.
Children.
Dozens.
Some names.
Some numbers.
And in the center—
me.
Five years old.
Standing beside Richard Vale.
Beside my photograph was another.
A boy.
Same age.
Same bracelet.
The label:
C-13.
I looked at Dad.
“Who is he?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then Ethan pointed.
“There.”
A file lay open on the floor.
C-13.
Parentage: Edward Carter.
My stomach dropped.
“Edward Carter had a son?”
Dad read the rest.
Then he looked at me.
“Not a son.”
“What?”
“A genetic twin.”
I stared.
“No.”
The file said otherwise.
Two embryos.
Same donor profile.
Different mothers.
One child: Camila.
Second child: C-13.
I felt dizzy.
“You're telling me I have a twin?”
Dad's silence was answer enough.
Then the nursery lights turned on.
A speaker crackled.
A man's voice said:
“You finally remembered her.”
A door slammed behind us.
Ethan grabbed me.
Dad raised his weapon.
The voice continued.
“Camila, your father spent years trying to save the wrong child.”
I looked toward the speakers.
“What child?”
“Your twin.”
The voice laughed.
“He's been looking for you too.”
Dad whispered, “Where is he?”
“Closer than you think.”
The lights went out.
May you like
When they came back on, Noah was gone.
I screamed.
