PART 2
The moment Nathaniel Graves ordered every door locked, the entire lobby changed.
The marble tower that had seemed so bright and beautiful only seconds earlier suddenly felt like a cage. Steel shutters slid over the side entrances. Security guards moved into position. Employees stopped whispering and stared at me as if the faded pink eviction notice in my hand were more dangerous than a weapon.
I hugged my patched backpack against my chest.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked.
Nathaniel looked at me, but for several seconds, he seemed unable to speak. His face had gone pale, and his eyes remained fixed on the address printed across the top of the notice.
1746 Aldridge Street, Apartment 4B.
Finally, he crouched in front of me.
“What is your name?”
“Ruby Bennett.”
His expression tightened.
“And your mother?”
“Claire Bennett.”
The billionaire closed his eyes.
It was only for a second, but I saw something break across his face—something raw and painful that didn’t belong on the face of a man whose picture appeared on magazine covers.
When he opened his eyes again, they were shining.
“How old are you, Ruby?”
“Eight.”
He stared at me as though my answer had made everything worse.
Behind him, the receptionist slowly stepped away from her desk. I noticed her hand moving toward a small black phone beneath the counter.
Nathaniel noticed too.
“Margaret,” he said without turning around, “take your hand away from that phone.”
The receptionist froze.
“I was only calling upstairs, sir.”
“No, you weren’t.”
His voice remained calm, but the kindness had disappeared from it.
One of the guards stepped behind the desk and removed the phone.
Margaret’s lips trembled.
I didn’t understand any of it. I only knew I wanted to go home.
My mother would already be worried. She believed I was spending my lunch money on soup at the corner café. She had no idea I had crossed half the city to return a billionaire’s wallet.
“I should leave,” I whispered. “My mom needs me.”
Nathaniel stood immediately.
“No.”
The word came out too sharply, and I flinched.
His expression softened.
“I’m sorry. But you cannot go home alone.”
“Why?”
He looked again at the eviction notice.
“Because the company listed at the bottom of that paper doesn’t exist.”
I blinked.
“It’s our landlord.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It is a shell corporation. One that was dissolved twelve years ago.”
The lobby seemed to grow even quieter.
Nathaniel took the notice from my hand and turned it over. Near the bottom was a small blue stamp I had never noticed before—a circle containing the letters GEC.
Graves Energy Corporation.
His company.
“That building belonged to Graves Energy,” he said. “It was never supposed to be rented to the public.”
“Then why do we live there?”
“That is what I intend to find out.”
He turned toward the nearest guard.
“Bring my car to the private entrance. Call Daniel Mercer and tell him to meet us at Aldridge Street. No police yet.”
“No police?” the guard asked.
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened.
“Not until I know which officers are involved.”
A cold feeling slid through my stomach.
The guard hurried away.
Nathaniel looked down at the wallet still clutched in my hands.
“You can keep holding it if that makes you feel safer.”
“I don’t want the money.”
“I know.”
That answer surprised me.
Most adults praised children loudly when they did something good, as if honesty were a performance. Nathaniel didn’t praise me. He simply believed me.
Maybe that was why I finally handed him the wallet.
He opened it, counted nothing, and immediately searched the inner pocket.
His fingers stopped.
“What is it?” I asked.
He pulled out a tiny silver key.
I hadn’t seen it before.
One side was engraved with the number 317.
Nathaniel stared at it.
“This was not in my wallet this morning.”
My heart began beating harder.
“Then someone put it there before I found it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you brought it to me.”
I thought of the rusty bus bench on Aldridge Street. The wallet had been positioned beneath it, half hidden but still visible enough for a child waiting for the bus to notice.
Someone had wanted me to find it.
Someone knew I would return it.
Someone knew exactly what my mother had taught me.
Nathaniel looked toward the locked doors.
“And whoever arranged this may still be inside the building.”
A scream came from the far side of the lobby.
Everyone turned.
A man wearing a gray suit shoved past two employees and ran toward the service corridor. A folder fell from beneath his jacket, spilling papers and photographs across the marble floor.
“Stop him!” Nathaniel shouted.
Two security guards chased him.
The man reached the corridor, but the electronic lock had already sealed. He slammed against the door, spun around, and reached inside his coat.
One guard struck his arm aside.
A small black device skidded across the floor.
The second guard tackled him.
The entire struggle lasted only seconds, but I stood frozen, too frightened even to breathe.
Nathaniel moved in front of me, shielding me with his body.
“Get Ruby upstairs,” he ordered.
“No!” the man in gray screamed.
His voice cracked across the lobby.
Nathaniel turned.
The man was pinned facedown against the marble, but he twisted his head toward me.
“She has to see the photographs!”
One of the guards forced his face back down.
Nathaniel’s gaze dropped to the scattered folder.
A photograph had landed near his shoe.
He picked it up.
Whatever he saw made his hands tremble again.
“Give it to me,” the man gasped. “You have no idea what you’re looking at.”
Nathaniel ignored him.
I stepped around Nathaniel’s coat and looked at the picture.
My mother stood outside a hospital, much younger than she was now. Her hair was long, her cheeks were round, and she wore a white nurse’s uniform. Beside her stood Nathaniel Graves.
He looked younger too, without silver in his hair.
Between them was a woman holding a newborn baby wrapped in pink.
The woman’s face had been scratched out.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written three words.
Ruby Graves survived.
My knees weakened.
“That’s my name.”
Nathaniel turned the picture over again, as though hoping the words would change.
“You said you’re eight.”
“I am.”
“This photograph was taken twelve years ago.”
The man on the floor began laughing.
It wasn’t a happy laugh. It sounded broken and desperate.
“That is not the child,” he said. “Not exactly.”
Nathaniel crossed the lobby in three steps and grabbed him by the collar.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled through a split lip.
“You knew my father.”
Nathaniel studied his face.
Then recognition struck.
“Samuel Pike.”
The smile widened.
“Junior.”
Nathaniel released him as though touching him burned.
Years before I was born, Samuel Pike Sr. had been Nathaniel’s closest business partner. Even I had heard the name because my mother sometimes whispered it during nightmares.
Pike had died in a car accident twelve years earlier.
At least, that was what the newspapers said.
Nathaniel looked at the younger man.
“Your father murdered my wife.”
Samuel’s laughter stopped.
“No. Your company murdered her.”
The words spread through the lobby like smoke.
Nathaniel’s face hardened.
“My wife died during childbirth.”
“That is what they told you.”
Samuel nodded toward the photograph.
“The woman holding the baby was Dr. Evelyn Shaw. She directed Graves Energy’s private medical research division. The infant was your daughter.”
Nathaniel’s eyes flicked toward me.
Samuel smiled.
“But this little girl is not that baby.”
I could hear my own heartbeat.
Nathaniel crouched beside him.
“Explain.”
“Unlock my hands.”
“No.”
“Then we all die ignorant.”
Nathaniel’s gaze sharpened.
“Search him.”
The guards emptied Samuel’s pockets. They found a phone, a folded map, two key cards, and a tiny plastic tube containing a strand of dark hair.
Nathaniel took the tube.
Samuel glanced at me.
“That belongs to Ruby.”
I touched my braid instinctively.
“How did you get my hair?”
“Your mother sent it.”
“My mom doesn’t know you.”
Samuel’s eyes softened for the first time.
“Your mother knows more than you think.”
The private elevator opened behind us.
A broad-shouldered man in a navy suit stepped out, carrying a medical bag and several folders. Nathaniel introduced him as Daniel Mercer, his attorney and oldest friend.
Daniel stopped when he saw Samuel Pike.
“Dear God.”
“You recognize him?” Nathaniel asked.
“I recognize his father.”
Samuel lifted his head.
“Everyone sees my father when they look at me. No one remembers my mother.”
Daniel’s face turned pale.
Nathaniel noticed.
“Who was his mother?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“Daniel.”
“Not here,” Daniel whispered.
Before Nathaniel could press him, every light in the lobby flickered.
Then the tower went dark.
People screamed.
Emergency lights glowed red along the walls. Somewhere above us, alarms began ringing.
The security guards drew their weapons.
Nathaniel grabbed my hand.
“Stay beside me.”
The grip was firm but gentle.
Through the red darkness, the receptionist Margaret slipped from behind her desk and ran toward the service corridor.
“Stop her!” Daniel shouted.
She reached the keypad and entered a code.
The sealed door opened.
Three masked men rushed inside.
The first fired something that made a soft popping sound.
A guard collapsed.
Not blood—some kind of dart.
Nathaniel pulled me behind a marble pillar as chaos exploded across the lobby.
People ran in every direction. Chairs overturned. Someone shattered a glass display case.
Samuel Pike rolled onto his side and struck one masked man’s ankle, sending him crashing to the floor.
“Take the girl upstairs!” Samuel shouted.
“Why should I trust you?” Nathaniel yelled.
“Because they’re here to kill me too!”
Daniel grabbed my other hand, but before he could move me, Margaret appeared from the darkness.
She held a silver syringe.
I screamed.
Nathaniel caught her wrist inches from my neck.
They struggled.
Margaret’s face twisted with rage.
“You should have left the dead buried!”
Nathaniel slammed her hand against the pillar. The syringe fell.
Daniel kicked it away.
A masked man charged toward us, but Samuel—still handcuffed—threw himself into the attacker’s legs. They both hit the floor.
“Elevator!” Daniel shouted.
Nathaniel lifted me into his arms and ran.
I wrapped my arms around his neck.
For one strange second, despite the shouting and alarms, I felt safe.
He carried me into the private elevator with Daniel and Samuel. One guard followed, dragging Margaret inside before the doors closed.
Nathaniel pressed the button for the underground garage.
Nothing happened.
“The power is disabled,” Daniel said.
The elevator shuddered.
Then it began climbing.
Nathaniel stared at the panel.
“Who changed the destination?”
No one answered.
The display showed the floors passing.
Twenty-two.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
The highest floor of Graves Tower was thirty-one.
The tiny silver key in Nathaniel’s hand bore the same number.
“Floor thirty-one, room seven,” Samuel said.
Nathaniel looked at him.
“What is there?”
“The truth.”
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened onto a dark corridor that did not look like part of a corporate office. The walls were bare concrete. Dust covered the floor. A metal sign read RESTRICTED MEDICAL ARCHIVE.
Nathaniel stepped out cautiously, still carrying me.
“I ordered this floor sealed after my wife died.”
“That was the point,” Samuel said. “No one investigates a place they believe is empty.”
At the end of the corridor stood a steel door marked 317.
Nathaniel inserted the silver key.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a room filled with old medical equipment, filing cabinets, and shelves of videotapes. A thick layer of dust covered everything except one small table in the center.
On it sat a laptop.
Its screen was already glowing.
A video file waited to be opened.
The name beneath it read: FOR NATHANIEL—WHEN RUBY RETURNS.
Nathaniel lowered me gently to the floor.
Daniel locked the door behind us while the guard restrained Margaret and Samuel in opposite corners.
Nathaniel pressed play.
A woman appeared on the screen.
She had dark hair, tired eyes, and a face that looked strangely familiar.
Nathaniel stopped breathing.
“Eleanor,” he whispered.
His wife.
The woman in the video looked directly into the camera.
“Nathaniel, if you are watching this, then I am either dead or I have failed to protect our daughter.”
His hand flew to his mouth.
“My pregnancy was never normal. Dr. Shaw discovered that Graves Energy’s medical division had been secretly testing an experimental treatment on employees exposed to chemical waste. I was one of them, although no one told me.”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“I didn’t know.”
On the screen, Eleanor continued.
“The treatment changed the baby’s blood. She survived conditions no infant should have survived. The board believed her cells could be worth billions.”
My stomach turned.
“They planned to take her after birth. Claire Bennett, a young nurse, helped me escape the delivery wing. But Dr. Shaw caught us.”
The video crackled.
A photograph appeared on-screen—the same photograph from the lobby.
Eleanor stood beside my mother and Nathaniel, holding the baby.
Her face had been scratched out later to conceal her identity.
“Our daughter’s name was Ruby,” Eleanor said. “But Ruby died before we reached safety.”
Nathaniel staggered backward.
“No.”
“She stopped breathing in Claire’s arms. Claire tried to save her, but the child was gone.”
I stared at the screen, confused.
If the baby named Ruby had died twelve years ago, why did I have her name?
Why was I standing there?
Eleanor’s voice softened.
“Claire was pregnant too. Only a few weeks along. Dr. Shaw threatened to kill Claire’s unborn child unless she surrendered Ruby’s body. Claire obeyed. She disappeared from the city and raised her own baby far away.”
Nathaniel slowly turned toward me.
I shook my head.
“My mother told me I was born here.”
“Keep watching,” Samuel said.
The video jumped forward.
Eleanor was crying now.
“Four years after Ruby’s death, Claire contacted me. Her daughter had been born with the same rare blood marker as Ruby. That should have been impossible.”
Nathaniel looked at the plastic tube containing my hair.
“Claire began to suspect that Dr. Shaw had altered her pregnancy before she escaped. Her child was not part of the original experiment, but somehow, the research continued inside her.”
Daniel whispered, “Genetic material.”
Samuel nodded.
Eleanor continued.
“Claire named her daughter Ruby to honor the baby she could not save. She believed the name would keep the truth alive.”
My eyes filled with tears.
So Nathaniel wasn’t my father.
But his dead daughter’s blood—something from her—might be inside me.
The video suddenly distorted.
A second person stepped into view.
My mother.
Older than in the photograph, but younger than she was now.
“Mr. Graves,” she said, “I am sorry. I wanted to tell you years ago, but every time I tried, someone found us. The eviction notice is not about rent. It is a signal. If Ruby brings it to you, it means they have located us.”
I covered my mouth.
Nathaniel leaned closer to the screen.
My mother looked frightened.
“They believe Ruby’s blood can restore the failed research. They will take her. Please protect her, even though she is not your child.”
The recording ended.
Silence filled the room.
I began crying.
Not loudly. The tears simply poured down my cheeks.
“My mom knew someone was coming?”
Nathaniel knelt in front of me.
“Yes.”
“Then we have to go home.”
He glanced at Daniel.
“We will.”
“Now.”
“Ruby—”
“She’s alone!”
I pushed past him and reached for the door.
Samuel spoke from the corner.
“She is not alone.”
I turned.
He looked down at the floor.
“Claire contacted me three months ago. She asked me to arrange the wallet, the notice, and the key.”
“Why you?”
“Because my father helped create the research program. Before he died, he left evidence. I have spent twelve years trying to expose what happened.”
Nathaniel’s voice sharpened.
“And where is Claire now?”
Samuel hesitated.
“That depends on whether the plan worked.”
“What plan?”
“To make everyone believe Ruby was still at Aldridge Street.”
My chest tightened.
“Where is my mother?”
Samuel looked at me with sadness.
“She left the apartment before sunrise.”
I remembered waking that morning and finding breakfast already on the table. My mother had hugged me longer than usual before sending me to school.
She had known.
“Where did she go?” I asked.
Samuel didn’t answer.
Nathaniel grabbed his jacket.
“Tell her.”
Samuel looked toward Margaret.
The receptionist sat against the wall with her wrists bound, but she was smiling.
“You’re too late,” she said.
Daniel stepped toward her.
“What did you do?”
Margaret’s smile widened.
“The apartment is burning.”
I screamed.
Nathaniel rushed to the laptop and pulled up the building’s security system. Smoke filled the camera image from Aldridge Street. Flames poured from the fourth-floor windows.
Apartment 4B.
My home.
“My mother!” I cried.
Nathaniel lifted me as I fought to reach the screen.
“She wasn’t there,” Samuel shouted. “Claire left before the fire!”
“Then where is she?” Nathaniel demanded.
Samuel’s face collapsed.
“I don’t know. We were supposed to meet at Union Station. She never arrived.”
The guard’s radio crackled.
“Mr. Graves, emergency crews have reached Aldridge Street. One body has been recovered from Apartment 4B.”
My entire world stopped.
Nathaniel held me tighter.
“No,” I whispered.
The radio continued.
“Adult female. Identification found under the name Claire Bennett.”
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t feel the floor beneath my feet.
A sound tore from my throat, but it didn’t sound human.
Nathaniel pressed my face against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
The room blurred through my tears.
My mother was gone.
The woman who skipped meals so I could eat. The woman who stitched my dresses beneath the kitchen light. The woman who told me honesty mattered most when no one was watching.
She had sent me away to save me.
And I had spent the entire afternoon worrying that she would be angry because I missed the bus.
Margaret began laughing softly.
“She died protecting a child who was never meant to exist.”
Nathaniel turned toward her with murder in his eyes.
But Samuel shook his head.
“Something is wrong.”
Everyone looked at him.
“Claire knew they would burn the apartment. She removed every document and personal item last night. She would never leave identification behind.”
Daniel stared at the security screen.
“So the body was planted.”
Samuel nodded.
“Or the identification was.”
Hope hurt more than grief.
“Is my mom alive?” I asked.
Samuel met my eyes.
“I believe so.”
The laptop chimed.
A new message appeared.
LIVE CONNECTION ESTABLISHED.
The screen turned black.
Then my mother’s face appeared.
She was sitting in a dim room with her hands tied to a chair.
“Mom!”
Her eyes widened when she heard my voice.
“Ruby? Oh, thank God.”
I ran toward the laptop.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
A person wearing a white coat stepped into view behind her.
Only a pair of gloved hands were visible.
Nathaniel leaned toward the screen.
“Release her.”
A cold laugh came through the speakers.
“I waited twelve years to hear Nathaniel Graves beg.”
Nathaniel went still.
“Dr. Shaw died.”
A woman’s voice answered.
“No, Nathaniel. Evelyn Shaw disappeared.”
The figure stepped into the light.
She was much older than the woman in the photograph, but there was no mistaking her face.
Dr. Evelyn Shaw.
The woman believed to have died in a laboratory explosion eleven years earlier.
She smiled at the camera.
“Bring Ruby to the original Graves research facility before midnight, and Claire lives.”
“You will not touch that child,” Nathaniel said.
“Then her mother dies.”
Dr. Shaw held up a glass vial filled with dark red liquid.
“And before you decide to involve the police, understand this: Ruby’s blood is not merely valuable. It is unstable. Without the treatment I created, she may not survive her ninth birthday.”
My hand went to my chest.
My ninth birthday was six days away.
Nathaniel stared at Dr. Shaw.
“You’re lying.”
“Ask Daniel.”
Everyone turned toward Nathaniel’s attorney.
Daniel’s face had become gray.
Nathaniel stepped toward him.
“What does she mean?”
Daniel looked at me, then at the floor.
“I reviewed the blood sample Claire sent three months ago.”
“And?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Ruby’s cells are deteriorating.”
A terrible silence followed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nathaniel asked.
“Because Claire begged me not to until we found Shaw’s research.”
Nathaniel seized Daniel’s collar.
“You knew the child was dying?”
“I knew she might be.”
I backed away from them.
Six days.
All my fears about rent, electricity, and hunger suddenly seemed small.
I might never turn nine.
On the screen, Dr. Shaw smiled.
“Midnight, Nathaniel. Bring the girl and the silver key. Come alone.”
The connection ended.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then Nathaniel released Daniel and crouched before me.
“You are not going anywhere near that facility.”
“But she has my mom.”
“I will get her back.”
“She asked for me.”
“And she will not have you.”
I looked into his eyes.
He had lost one Ruby twelve years ago.
Now he was terrified of losing another.
“I found your wallet because my mother taught me to do the right thing,” I said. “The right thing is saving her.”
“The right thing is keeping you alive.”
“She kept me alive for eight years.”
My voice broke.
“Now it’s my turn.”
Nathaniel looked away.
Samuel shifted against his restraints.
“There may be another option.”
The guard pulled him upright.
Samuel nodded toward the wall of filing cabinets.
“Cabinet seventeen. Bottom drawer.”
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a blueprint of the abandoned Graves research facility. Several underground tunnels had been marked in red.
“My father designed those tunnels,” Samuel said. “Dr. Shaw knows the main entrance and loading dock, but she may not know the emergency route beneath the river.”
Nathaniel studied the map.
“We enter through the tunnel, rescue Claire, and leave before Shaw knows we’re there.”
“And the treatment?” I asked.
No one answered.
I looked at Daniel.
“If I’m sick, we need to find it.”
Daniel nodded reluctantly.
“The research files may contain enough information to stabilize you.”
Nathaniel folded the map.
“Then we retrieve both.”
Outside the archive room, power returned to the tower. Security teams reported that the masked attackers had escaped, but the building was secure.
Nathaniel ordered a helicopter prepared on the roof.
Before we left, he took me into a private office and opened a closet filled with expensive clothes.
Most were far too large.
A housekeeper found a clean blue dress belonging to an employee’s daughter and a pair of white sneakers.
While she helped me change, Nathaniel stood outside the door.
“Mr. Graves?” I called.
“Yes?”
“Was your daughter really named Ruby?”
A long pause followed.
“Yes.”
“Did you love her?”
“Before she was born.”
My throat tightened.
“Do you think my mom stole her name?”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“I think she protected it.”
When I stepped out, Nathaniel was holding a small velvet box.
Inside was a silver necklace with a tiny ruby pendant.
“This belonged to Eleanor,” he said. “She planned to give it to our daughter.”
“I’m not your daughter.”
“I know.”
His eyes met mine.
“But tonight, you are under my protection.”
He fastened the necklace around my neck.
The helicopter carried us beyond the city as evening swallowed the sky. Nathaniel sat beside me, one hand gripping the map. Daniel examined the vial containing my hair. Samuel, still watched by two guards, explained everything his father had discovered.
The facility stood beneath an abandoned power station beside the Blackwater River. Graves Energy had closed it after a chemical leak killed six workers.
At least, that was the official story.
In truth, the workers had been test subjects.
My mother had been employed there as a nurse.
Nathaniel had never known.
His own board of directors had hidden the program from him, using his family name to protect themselves.
“Who was in charge?” Nathaniel asked.
Samuel stared through the helicopter window.
“Your older brother.”
Nathaniel’s face hardened.
“Alexander died fifteen years ago.”
“My father’s records say otherwise.”
Before Nathaniel could respond, the pilot’s voice came through the headset.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
A blinking red light appeared on the instrument panel.
The helicopter lurched.
“What happened?” Daniel shouted.
“Fuel pressure is dropping.”
The pilot fought the controls.
Someone had sabotaged the aircraft.
Below us, the river twisted through the darkness like a black ribbon.
The helicopter descended rapidly.
Nathaniel pulled me against his chest and fastened both our restraints.
“Listen to me,” he said. “When we land, you stay beside me.”
“Are we going to crash?”
“We are going to survive.”
The trees rushed closer.
The helicopter struck the ground with a deafening roar.
Metal screamed.
Glass exploded.
Then everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, smoke filled the cabin.
Nathaniel hung beside me, unconscious, blood running from his forehead.
“Mr. Graves!”
I shook him.
He groaned but did not wake.
Daniel was trapped behind a twisted seat. The guards were injured. Samuel’s restraints had broken during the crash.
He could have escaped.
Instead, he crawled through the smoke and pulled me free.
“We need to move,” he said.
“Help Nathaniel!”
Together, we dragged him from the wreckage seconds before flames swallowed the rear cabin.
Daniel and the pilot escaped through the opposite door.
We stumbled toward the riverbank.
In the distance, a building rose above the trees.
The abandoned power station.
“We landed less than a mile from the facility,” Samuel said.
Nathaniel regained consciousness and pushed himself upright.
“The crash wasn’t an accident.”
“No,” Samuel replied. “Shaw knew we were coming.”
Nathaniel touched the blood on his forehead.
“Then she also knows we survived.”
A beam of light swept across the trees.
Vehicles approached from the road.
Nathaniel grabbed my hand.
“Run.”
We followed Samuel through the forest toward a rusted drainage tunnel beside the river. Behind us, doors slammed and men shouted.
The tunnel was narrow, cold, and filled with ankle-deep water. Samuel used the light from his phone to guide us.
After several hundred feet, we reached an iron ladder.
Above it was a hatch.
Samuel climbed first.
The hatch opened into a laboratory.
Rows of glass chambers stood beneath flickering lights.
Most were empty.
One was not.
Inside the final chamber floated a young girl.
She looked twelve years old.
Her dark hair drifted around her face. Wires connected her body to machines. A silver necklace with a ruby pendant rested against her chest.
The same necklace I was wearing.
Nathaniel stepped toward the glass.
His face emptied of all emotion.
“No,” he whispered.
A monitor beside the chamber displayed a name.
SUBJECT R-01: RUBY GRAVES.
I touched the pendant at my throat.
The baby from the photograph had not died.
She had been kept alive for twelve years.
Nathaniel’s real daughter was inside the chamber.
And beneath her name, another message appeared on the monitor.
GENETIC STABILIZATION REQUIRES SUBJECT R-02.
My photograph filled the screen.
Samuel backed away.
Nathaniel stared at me in horror.
Then a speaker crackled above us, and Dr. Shaw’s voice filled the laboratory.
“Welcome home, Ruby.”
The chamber containing Nathaniel’s daughter began to drain.
Her eyes slowly opened.
But she wasn’t looking at Nathaniel.
She was looking directly at me.
Then, through the thick glass, the girl lifted one trembling hand and whispered the words that turned my blood cold.
“She is not Ruby.”
The laboratory doors slammed shut behind us.
…If you want to know what happened next, please type “YES” and like for more.
