I pulled my sweater over Emma's face.
Sarah grabbed Lily and did the same.
Dr. Patel covered her mouth with a towel.
Detective Morales threw herself against the electronic door.
It didn't move.
The ventilation system continued its quiet hiss.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just steady.
That made it worse.
The green-banded girl was crying.
“They do this downstairs.”
“What happens?” I asked.
“They make everyone sleep.”
My vision blurred.
The floor seemed to move beneath me.
Emma's weight sagged against my side.
“Emma?”
No response.
I shook her gently.
“Emma.”
Her body went limp.
“Emma!”
Morales fired at the electronic lock.
Once.
Twice.
The room filled with shouting.
The yellow-banded girl collapsed beside the bed.
Dr. Patel crawled toward her.
I couldn't tell whether my own legs were still working.
Then the door finally burst open.
Fresh air rushed in.
Masked security officers flooded the room.
Someone grabbed my shoulder.
I refused to let go of Emma.
The hallway spun.
Then everything disappeared.
When I woke, my head felt as though someone had filled it with wet sand.
I tried to sit up.
A hand stopped me.
“Easy.”
Morales.
“Where is Emma?”
“She’s safe.”
“Where?”
“Another room.”
“Take me to her.”
“Claire.”
“Take me to my daughter.”
She hesitated.
That frightened me more than anything else.
“What happened?”
“Emma is alive.”
“Then why are you looking at me like that?”
Morales pulled a chair closer.
“We recovered everyone from the room.”
“Sarah?”
“Alive.”
“Lily?”
“Alive.”
“The other girls?”
“Alive.”
I closed my eyes.
Relief lasted less than a second.
“Then what's wrong?”
Morales looked toward the door.
“One child disappeared during the evacuation.”
My eyes opened.
“Who?”
“The yellow-banded girl.”
The silent child.
The one who had finally said her name was Lily.
Someone had taken her.
Security footage had gone offline.
Again.
The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
Creston didn't simply have access to systems.
They seemed to know exactly when those systems would matter.
I remembered Daniel.
“He said they found him.”
Morales looked at me.
“Who?”
“My husband.”
She went still.
“We're trying to locate him.”
“Where was the call from?”
“Denver.”
Not Seattle.
“Where in Denver?”
“Near another known Creston facility.”
My stomach tightened.
“And Ethan?”
“We don't know yet.”
I threw the blanket aside.
“I'm going.”
“No.”
“My husband is there.”
“Possibly.”
“My nephew is missing.”
“I know.”
“A child was taken from this hospital.”
“I know.”
“And you think I'm staying in bed?”
Morales stood.
“You're staying with Emma.”
That stopped me.
“Where is she?”
“Come with me.”
My legs barely held me upright.
Emma was sleeping in a room down the hall.
Sarah sat beside her.
Lily was curled against Sarah.
The green-banded girl sat near the window.
When she saw me, she stood.
“You woke up.”
I nodded.
“Where is the other girl?”
Her face changed.
“They took Three.”
Three.
Not a name.
A number.
“Where?”
She shook her head.
Then she looked at Emma.
“But they came for her.”
My skin went cold.
“What?”
The girl pointed toward the ventilation grate.
“Before the air, the speaker turned on.”
“What did it say?”
She looked directly at Emma.
“Bring E-Seven.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What is E-Seven?”
The child shook her head.
“They were looking for her.”
“Who?”
“The people downstairs.”
“Why?”
“They took Three because they thought she was E-Seven.”
I looked at my daughter.
For one awful moment, I understood.
The hospital darkness had not been random.
They had come for Emma.
The yellow-banded girl had been taken because someone had mistaken her for my daughter.
The same kind of mistake Sarah had made.
The same kind of mistake that had followed these children from room to room.
Then my phone rang.
The screen showed Daniel.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
A man's voice answered.
Not Daniel.
Mark.
“Hello, Claire.”
Sarah stood so quickly her chair fell backward.
“Where is Daniel?”
Mark laughed quietly.
“You really don't know anything.”
“Where is my husband?”
“Closer than you think.”
“Where is Ethan?”
Silence.
“Mark.”
“He's alive.”
Sarah grabbed the phone.
“Let me talk to him.”
Mark's voice hardened.
“Sarah.”
“Where is my son?”
“You ruined everything.”
“You used our children.”
“I saved them.”
“From what?”
Silence.
Then Mark said:
“You still think Creston is the disease.”
I stared at the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“Creston is the treatment.”
“For what?”
His voice became softer.
“For you.”
The room went quiet.
“Ask Claire why she never gets sick.”
I felt a chill.
“I get sick.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“When was the last time you had the flu?”
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
“When was the last time you needed antibiotics?”
I couldn't remember.
“When was the last time you broke a bone?”
“That proves nothing.”
“You survived the car accident at nineteen.”
My stomach dropped.
I had never told Mark the details of that accident.
“You survived internal bleeding for hours.”
“How do you know that?”
“You survived a pregnancy complication that should have killed you.”
I looked at Emma.
“That was luck.”
“No.”
His voice became almost gentle.
“None of it was luck.”
I felt sick.
“What am I?”
Sarah whispered my name.
“Claire, don't.”
But I needed the answer.
“What am I, Mark?”
He exhaled.
“The reason they never stopped.”
“Never stopped what?”
“Trying to repeat you.”
I looked at the three girls.
The implants.
The scars.
The altered genetic markers.
The records.
The word Daniel had used.
Stable.
“They're trying to make another me.”
Mark said nothing.
That silence told me enough.
“Why Lily?”
“Because she carries part of your line.”
“She is my sister's daughter.”
“Exactly.”
“Then why Emma?”
His voice changed.
“Emma carries more.”
I looked at my daughter.
“She is the closest they've ever come.”
My knees weakened.
“No.”
“She is why Creston reopened the program.”
“No.”
“Daniel knew.”
My chest tightened.
“Where is he?”
“With Ethan.”
“Where?”
“I'll show you.”
A message arrived.
An address.
Morales immediately photographed the screen.
“Come alone,” Mark said.
“No.”
“Then the boy dies.”
Sarah grabbed my arm.
“Don't.”
Mark continued.
“And Claire?”
“What?”
“The child they took from the hospital has less than two hours.”
I looked at the green-banded girl.
“How do you know?”
“The device inside her has already activated.”
The girl went white.
“What device?”
Mark laughed softly.
“Ask L-Two what happens at midnight.”
The call ended.
Everyone looked at the child.
She was trembling.
“What happens at midnight?” I asked.
She touched the implant beneath her skin.
“The reset.”
“What does that mean?”
“They turn everything off.”
“What?”
She touched her chest.
“My heart.”
No one moved.
Dr. Patel rushed toward her.
“What are you saying?”
“They said if we ever left, they could make us stop.”
The room went silent.
The implant wasn't merely tracking her.
It was a control mechanism.
A leash.
And the child they had taken from the hospital might already be carrying one too.
I looked at the clock.
10:17 p.m.
Less than two hours.
Somewhere in Denver, Mark had Ethan.
Daniel was missing.
Creston had taken the wrong child.
Emma was apparently their most valuable target.
And one frightened six-year-old might die at midnight if we couldn't reach her.
I turned to Morales.
“You have the address.”
“Yes.”
“We go now.”
“You don't.”
“I do.”
“Claire, you were drugged less than an hour ago.”
“My nephew is missing.”
“We'll handle it.”
“My husband is there.”
“Possibly.”
“A child was taken.”
“I know.”
I looked at Emma.
Then Lily.
Then the green-banded girl.
“No one in this family has been safe for a long time.”
Sarah stood.
“I'm coming.”
I turned toward her.
“No.”
“He has my son.”
“He wants me.”
“He is my husband.”
“And he lied to you for years.”
Her expression hardened.
“Exactly.”
Morales cursed quietly.
Her radio suddenly came alive.
“Detective, we have movement at the address.”
Morales grabbed it.
“What kind?”
“Multiple vehicles leaving.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
“Stop them.”
“We can't.”
“Why?”
A pause.
“They're police vehicles.”
The room went silent.
“What units?”
“No unit numbers.”
Morales's face changed.
Fake police.
Or worse.
Real officers working for Creston.
The radio crackled again.
“One vehicle remains.”
“Who's inside?”
“We have a thermal image.”
“How many?”
“Five.”
Sarah grabbed my hand.
“Ethan.”
“Adults or children?” Morales asked.
A long pause.
“Three adults.”
Another pause.
“Two children.”
My heart began pounding.
“Move in,” Morales ordered.
The radio crackled.
Then a voice came through.
“Detective…”
“What?”
“One of the children is moving.”
“And the other?”
Silence.
Long enough for every person in the room to understand what silence meant.
“Not anymore.”
Sarah screamed.
The radio went dead.
I looked at the clock.
10:21 p.m.
And somewhere across the city, one of our children had just stopped moving.
Click here to continue reading: PART 5: The Address Led Us Somewhere the Police Had Never Listed, and the First Door We Opened Changed What We Thought We Were Chasing
The Small Detail My Daughter Noticed in the Locker Room Turned an Ordinary Weekend Into Something I Couldn’t Explain
Part 4 of 20
