Chapter 8 - THE CHILD BEFORE NOAH
My mother refused to speak.
Not at first.
Then Gabriel brought her to a secure room.
Ethan stayed outside.
I sat across from her.
“Tell me.”
She cried.
“You were pregnant before Noah.”
I felt sick.
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“No.”
“You lost the baby.”
“What happened?”
She closed her eyes.
“You didn't lose the baby.”
My heart stopped.
“Then where is it?”
“They took her.”
“Who?”
“The same people who took Lily.”
I couldn't breathe.
“How many children have been taken?”
My mother whispered:
“Fourteen.”
The room went silent.
Fourteen children.
A secret medical program.
Years of stolen babies.
And Noah was only one piece of it.
“Why?”
“Genetic research.”
“Who funded it?”
She looked at me.
“Sterling House.”
I froze.
Gabriel's company.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Gabriel knew?”
“No.”
“His father?”
“Yes.”
“Ethan?”
“He discovered it.”
“And tried to stop them.”
“Yes.”
“So why did he disappear?”
“Because they tried to kill him.”
I closed my eyes.
Everything connected.
The phone calls.
The watch.
The files.
The missing children.
My family.
The Roths.
The Sterlings.
All of it.
But one question remained.
“Where is my first child?”
My mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then who does?”
She looked toward Gabriel.
“His father.”
Gabriel entered.
“What?”
My mother stared at him.
“Your father knew where the children were.”
Gabriel's face changed.
“Where?”
“An island.”
“What island?”
“Blackwood.”
Ethan went pale.
“I know that place.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“What is it?”
“The old Roth research facility.”
We left immediately.
The island was private.
No public access.
No official records.
We arrived by helicopter.
The facility was abandoned.
Or appeared to be.
Inside, we found laboratories.
Medical equipment.
Freezers.
Files.
And photographs.
Hundreds.
Children.
Names.
Dates.
Genetic profiles.
I found Noah.
Then Lily.
Then another photograph.
A baby girl.
My name appeared beneath it.
CLAIRE'S FIRST DAUGHTER.
My hands shook.
“She's alive.”
Ethan stared at the photograph.
“How old?”
“Eight.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Then she's here.”
We searched.
Room after room.
Finally, we heard music.
A child's voice.
Someone singing.
I opened a door.
A little girl sat on the floor.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
She looked up.
“Are you my mother?”
I fell to my knees.
“Yes.”
She ran into my arms.
I held her so tightly I thought I would never let go.
“My name is Emma,” she whispered.
I cried.
“Your name is beautiful.”
“Do I have a family?”
I looked behind me.
Noah stood there.
Lily beside Gabriel.
Ethan crying.
“Yes.”
I smiled through tears.
“You have a very big family.”
Then the lights came on.
A voice filled the laboratory.
“Touching.”
We turned.
A man appeared on the monitor.
I recognized him.
Gabriel's father.
Dead for seven years.
Except he wasn't dead.
He smiled.
“Hello, Claire.”
Gabriel stared at the screen.
“Dad?”
The man laughed.
“Did you really think I was dead?”
The facility doors locked.
He continued:
“You have exactly thirty minutes.”
“For what?”
May you like
“To decide which child lives.”
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