Chapter 23 - Evan
The first bullet hit the wall above my head.
The second shattered the light.
We plunged into darkness.
Mercer shouted, “Down!”
Torres fired toward the hallway.
My father grabbed my mother.
“Back room.”
She resisted.
“No.”
“We don't have time.”
“We have to get the archive.”
“The archive is gone.”
My mother looked at me.
“No.”
“What archive?”
She pulled a small drive from inside her coat.
“This.”
Mercer saw it.
“What is that?”
“The second archive.”
I stared.
“You said the archive was a person.”
“It was.”
She placed the drive in my hand.
“What happened to the person?”
My mother looked toward the ceiling.
“They killed him yesterday.”
I felt cold.
“Who?”
“Sloane.”
The gunfire stopped.
That silence frightened me more.
Torres whispered, “They're repositioning.”
My father opened a hidden door behind the file cabinet.
“Move.”
We ran.
The passage narrowed.
Concrete pressed on both sides.
The smell of smoke followed us.
We emerged into a loading bay behind the hospital.
Two SUVs waited.
One belonged to Sloane.
The other had no markings.
Mercer looked at it.
“That's federal.”
My father shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
He looked at the windshield.
“Northstar.”
A door opened.
A young man stepped out.
He looked at me.
My heart stopped.
The same face from the video.
The same eyes.
The same jawline.
Twenty-something.
My age.
But he looked exhausted.
Older than the photograph suggested.
He raised both hands.
“Mara.”
My mother froze.
“Evan.”
He looked at her.
“You remembered.”
She took a step forward.
“I never forgot.”
He smiled without warmth.
“You never came.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“They wouldn't let me.”
“They let you take her.”
His gaze moved to me.
“They let you save her.”
My mother couldn't answer.
I walked forward.
“I'm your sister.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“How?”
“I've known for years.”
“Then why did you let me believe you were dead?”
He laughed softly.
“You weren't supposed to know I existed.”
I looked at my father.
He didn't speak.
Evan noticed.
“You still trust him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
My father lifted his weapon.
Evan immediately drew his.
“Gabriel.”
My father froze.
“You remember me.”
“I remember what you promised.”
My father's face changed.
“What did I promise?”
“That if I survived, you'd tell Mara the truth.”
My father lowered his weapon.
“I failed.”
Evan looked at me.
“He failed often.”
I couldn't stop staring at him.
There was something deeply familiar about his face.
Not just the eyes.
The small scar near his eyebrow.
The way he tilted his head when thinking.
The way his mouth tightened when he was angry.
I touched the silver star in my pocket.
He noticed.
“You have it.”
“What is it?”
“You'll find out.”
My mother walked toward him.
He stepped back.
“Don't.”
“I just want to touch you.”
“You lost that right.”
She began crying.
“I know.”
Evan looked at me again.
“Sloane told me you would come.”
“Why?”
“Because he needs you.”
“For the authorization.”
“That's part of it.”
“What else?”
“Blood.”
The word made my stomach twist.
Evan stepped closer.
“He wants to open the original archive.”
“Why can't he?”
“Because your father locked it.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“With my DNA?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Sloane never trusted a key.”
Evan's voice dropped.
“He trusted family.”
A voice came from the overhead speakers.
Sloane.
“Family makes people weak.”
My blood ran cold.
Evan turned.
“How did you—”
Sloane continued.
“Evan, you've spent twelve years running.”
Evan raised his gun.
“You should have stayed gone.”
“You always were impatient.”
“Where are you?”
“Closer than you think.”
The lights in the loading bay flickered.
Sloane's voice became almost gentle.
“Mara.”
I looked around.
“You think your father protected you from me.”
Silence.
“He didn't.”
“He protected me from you.”
“No.”
Sloane paused.
“He protected me from what you would become if you ever learned the truth.”
I felt anger rising.
“You don't know me.”
“I know your blood.”
“I don't belong to you.”
“You were always mine.”
Evan moved in front of me.
“She is not yours.”
Sloane laughed.
“Then ask her about the DNA report.”
“What report?”
Evan looked at me.
“Don't listen.”
The speaker clicked.
A document appeared on a screen across the loading bay.
One page.
A genetic analysis.
My name.
Evan's name.
Victor Sloane's.
Then another line.
PATERNAL CONCORDANCE: 99.97%.
I stared.
Sloane said, “You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop letting Gabriel decide which pieces you deserve.”
The screen went black.
My father looked at me.
“There is more.”
“Of course there is.”
Evan stepped toward me.
“Mara.”
“What?”
“I need you to believe one thing.”
“What?”
“I never sent that message.”
My stomach dropped.
“What message?”
“The one that said I was your son.”
I looked at him.
He shook his head.
“I'm your brother.”
My mother covered her face.
“Then who sent it?”
Evan looked toward Gabriel.
Neither of them answered.
Mercer suddenly grabbed my shoulder.
“Move.”
A laser dot appeared on the concrete.
Sniper.
We ran.
Bullets shattered the windows behind us.
Torres dragged my mother into the SUV.
Mercer pushed Evan inside.
My father came last.
I slammed the door.
The vehicle screamed away.
For several minutes, no one spoke.
Then Evan looked at me.
“Sloane wasn't lying about one thing.”
“What?”
“He knows where the original archive is.”
“Where?”
Evan pointed at my hand.
“At the thing you're holding.”
I opened my palm.
The silver star reflected the dashboard lights.
“What does it unlock?”
May you like
Evan answered quietly.
“Your birth.”
