Chapter 14 - THE WOMAN IN LOS ANGELES
Ethan refused to believe his mother was alive.
Until he saw the photograph.
A recent photograph.
Her standing outside a luxury clinic in Los Angeles.
Older.
Elegant.
Smiling.
Alive.
Ethan dropped the picture.
“She died.”
Grace looked at him.
“She disappeared.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Grace's voice hardened.
“She abandoned us.”
Ethan looked devastated.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because we didn't know if you were protecting us or them.”
Ethan looked at me.
“I wasn't.”
I believed him.
At least partially.
Adrian stepped closer.
“We leave tonight.”
“Where?”
“Los Angeles.”
Ethan shook his head.
“She'll expect us.”
“Good.”
Adrian's expression was cold.
“I want her expecting us.”
We flew to Los Angeles on Adrian's private jet.
I sat by the window.
Grace sat beside me.
For the first time in twenty-eight years, I had a daughter.
A daughter who was older than me when I had imagined she was still a baby.
I kept looking at her.
She smiled.
“You can stare.”
“Sorry.”
“It's okay.”
“I just…”
“I know.”
She took my hand.
“I've imagined this too.”
Across the cabin, Lucas and Noah spoke quietly with Ethan.
Adrian stood near the front.
I watched him.
There were so many questions between us.
Eventually, he came over.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
I looked at him.
“Did you really think my children were dead?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the records were altered.”
“By whom?”
“My father.”
I looked down.
“Then why did you keep investigating?”
“Because I didn't believe the records.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every person who asked questions disappeared.”
I looked at him.
“You were afraid.”
“Yes.”
That admission surprised me.
Adrian Blackwood was afraid.
For me.
For my children.
For the truth.
Maybe that was why I had started trusting him despite everything.
Not because he was powerful.
Because beneath the power, there was a man who carried guilt like a second skin.
He sat beside me.
“I owe you the truth.”
“You do.”
“I started investigating Ethan because I believed he was involved.”
“He was.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“I discovered he was protecting you.”
I looked at him.
“And then?”
“I discovered someone else was using your pregnancy.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
I stared.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wanted access to the triplets.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked at me.
“Because your babies have something he needs.”
“What?”
He didn't answer.
“What?”
“Your genetic marker.”
I sighed.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“There is more.”
“What?”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Your marker isn't inherited normally.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone altered it.”
I stared.
“Who?”
“My father.”
I couldn't breathe.
“He experimented on you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before you were born.”
My stomach turned.
Adrian continued.
“Your mother was the first successful subject.”
“And me?”
“The second.”
“And my babies?”
“The third.”
I looked toward the incubator photographs in my hand.
Three generations.
One project.
One family.
One nightmare.
Then the jet began descending.
Los Angeles glittered beneath us.
We landed at a private airport.
Security surrounded the aircraft.
A black limousine waited.
Adrian opened the door.
I stepped inside.
“Where are we going?”
“Mercer residence.”
Ethan frowned.
“My mother doesn't live there.”
“She doesn't.”
“Then why?”
Adrian looked at him.
“Because she wants us to think she's somewhere else.”
The Mercer mansion was dark.
We entered through the back.
Nothing moved.
Then a voice echoed through the house.
“Ethan.”
He froze.
His mother's voice.
He looked up.
A woman appeared on the staircase.
Silver hair.
Black dress.
Perfect posture.
She smiled.
“My son.”
Ethan whispered:
“Mother.”
She looked at me.
Then at Adrian.
Then at Grace.
Her smile disappeared.
“You found them.”
I stepped forward.
“You stole my children.”
She smiled.
“I preserved them.”
“You kidnapped them.”
“I saved them.”
“From what?”
She looked at me.
“From your father.”
I shook my head.
“My father tried to protect us.”
“He tried to destroy the only technology capable of saving millions of children.”
“That isn't true.”
She laughed.
“You still believe him.”
Then she looked at Grace.
“Ask your daughter.”
Grace stepped forward.
“You lied to us.”
“I gave you life.”
“You stole it.”
The woman's face hardened.
Then she looked at me.
“Claire, you have no idea what your father did.”
“What did he do?”
“He created something that could change the world.”
“What?”
“Human development.”
I stared.
She continued.
“Your father's technology can identify genetic potential before birth.”
“So?”
“So imagine a world where doctors can predict which children will become sick.”
“And?”
“Imagine preventing diseases before they exist.”
I shook my head.
“You experimented on children.”
“Sacrifices were necessary.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“That's what your father said.”
Then she pointed at my babies' medical files.
“The triplets are the final proof.”
“What proof?”
“That the system works.”
I stepped forward.
“You're not touching my children.”
She smiled.
“I don't need to.”
Then she pressed a button.
A screen behind her activated.
I saw my three babies.
Alive.
Inside a medical facility.
My heart stopped.
“What did you do?”
She smiled.
“They're not in New York.”
“Where?”
She looked directly at me.
“Below us.”
The floor beneath our feet suddenly opened.
A hidden elevator appeared.
She stepped inside.
“Come.”
I looked at Adrian.
He nodded.
We entered.
The elevator descended.
Ten floors.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Then the doors opened.
A massive underground medical facility appeared.
Thousands of machines.
Hundreds of medical files.
And at the center—
three incubators.
My babies.
Alive.
But connected to machines I had never seen before.
I screamed.
“No!”
May you like
The woman smiled.
“Welcome to Project Three.”
