Chapter 6: My Other Face
Seeing your own face on another man does something strange to the mind.
For several seconds, I couldn't process him as a person.
He looked like a distorted reflection.
Same dark eyes.
Same crooked bridge of the nose.
Same small indentation in the chin.
But his face carried years mine didn't.
A scar crossed his cheek.
Another disappeared beneath his collar.
“Michael?”” I whispered.
He smiled without warmth.
“Apparently somebody remembers me.””
Thomas moved toward him.
“Son.””
Michael's expression turned instantly cold.
“Don't.””
Thomas stopped.
I looked between them.
“You knew he was alive?””
Thomas didn't answer.
Michael laughed.
“Oh, this should be good.””
“Michael,” Thomas warned.
“No. Ryan deserves the family reunion.””
He looked at me.
“Our father has a talent for selective truth.””
I tightened my grip on the flashlight.
“Then you tell me.””
Michael leaned against a filing cabinet.
“Where should I start? The part where our mother separated us? The part where our father helped her? Or the part where everyone decided you were the child worth saving?””
Thomas stepped forward.
“That isn't what happened.””
“Really?””
Michael pulled up his sleeve.
Small faded scars covered his forearm.
Sarah turned away.
My stomach tightened.
“What happened to you?””
Michael looked directly at me.
“The study.””
Thomas said, “Evelyn told me Michael died.””
“And you believed her for how many years?””
“Seven.””
Michael nodded slowly.
“Seven years.””
He looked at me.
“You got birthday cakes. School pictures. Christmas mornings.””
I couldn't answer.
“I got observation rooms.””
His voice remained calm.
That made it worse.
“Blood tests. Memory tests. People asking whether I could hear sounds other children couldn't hear.””
“What sounds?””
Michael glanced toward the ceiling.
“The walls.””
A chill moved through me.
“The noises?””
“Some were Emma.””
He pointed toward a ventilation pipe.
“Some weren't.””
Thomas interrupted.
“We don't have time for this.””
Michael laughed again.
“You never did.””
I stepped between them.
“Why is my mother after Lily?””
Michael's amusement disappeared.
“Because Lily is the first child who has what Evelyn spent forty years trying to preserve.””
“What?””
Michael studied me.
“You really don't know.””
“No.””
He looked at Thomas.
“Tell him about the marker.””
Thomas remained silent.
Michael nodded.
“Of course.””
He walked to one of the old computers.
Surprisingly, it powered on.
A diagram appeared.
Family names.
Dates.
Medical terminology I barely understood.
Michael pointed at a sequence highlighted beside Lily's name.
“The crescent isn't a laboratory mark. It's natural. Rare, but natural. Evelyn's study tracked families carrying a cluster of inherited traits associated with it.””
“What traits?””
“Enhanced pattern recognition. Auditory sensitivity. Unusually strong long-term recall.””
I stared at him.
“You're describing normal human variation.””
“Exactly.””
That surprised me.
Michael looked bitter.
“Evelyn built mythology around genetics. She convinced wealthy people that our family carried something extraordinary.””
Sarah folded her arms.
“For money.””
“For money. Control. Legacy. Pick one.””
Thomas said quietly, “She became obsessed.””
Michael turned on him.
“She experimented on children.””
Thomas looked away.
That was answer enough.
I felt nauseated.
“And Lily?””
“Lily tested differently.””
“How?””
Michael pointed toward a document.
“According to Evelyn's notes, she carries the marker combination more strongly than anyone they recorded.””
I shook my head.
“I don't care what she carries.””
“Good.””
Michael shut off the monitor.
“Because Evelyn does.””
A sudden pounding came from somewhere above us.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Three knocks.
Sarah stiffened.
“What is that?””
Michael's face changed.
“We need to leave.””
“Why?””
Three more knocks.
Closer.
Thomas grabbed my arm.
“Ryan.””
I pulled free.
“Tell me.””
Michael opened a drawer and removed a small radio.
Static crackled.
Then a woman's voice emerged.
“Michael?””
My entire body went cold.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it read bedtime stories.
Heard it sing while washing dishes.
Heard it tell twelve-year-old me that my father was dead.
My mother.
“Michael,” she repeated.
“I know Ryan is with you.””
I grabbed the radio.
“Mom?””
Silence.
Then—
“Ryan.””
My knees nearly buckled.
“How?””
Her voice softened.
“My beautiful boy.””
“Don't call me that.””
Thomas reached for the radio.
I pushed him away.
“You lied to me.””
“Yes.””
“You faked your death.””
“Yes.””
“You faked Dad's death.””
A pause.
“That was necessary.””
“Necessary?””
Anger burned through me.
“You kidnapped Sarah.””
“No.””
Sarah shouted toward the radio.
“LIAR!””
My mother ignored her.
“Ryan, listen carefully. Thomas and Michael are manipulating you.””
Michael rolled his eyes.
“Classic Evelyn.””
I pressed the button.
“Why do you want Lily?””
Silence.
“Mom?””
“I don't want to hurt Lily.””
“That wasn't my question.””
Another pause.
Then she said, “Because Lily belongs with me.””
My vision blurred with rage.
“She belongs with Claire and me.””
“Claire?””
My mother laughed softly.
The sound terrified me more than shouting would have.
“Ryan, there are things about Claire you still don't understand.””
I looked toward Thomas.
“What things?””
My mother's voice came through again.
“Ask your wife why she was chosen.””
My stomach tightened.
“Chosen for what?””
The radio went silent.
“Mom?””
Nothing.
Michael grabbed his coat.
“We have to move.””
“Why?””
He pointed toward a tiny light above the archive door.
It had turned red.
“She triggered the security system.””
Thomas rushed toward the corridor.
I followed.
We climbed the stairs and raced through the passage.
“Claire!””
No answer.
I shoved through the bedroom closet.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
I ran downstairs.
“Lily!””
Nothing.
The living room was empty.
A toy rabbit lay on the floor.
The front door remained locked.
The back door remained locked.
My heart hammered.
Then I heard crying.
Kitchen.
I ran in.
Claire sat on the floor.
Bloodless face.
Shaking hands.
Emma was beside her.
But Lily wasn't.
“Where is she?””
Claire looked at me.
“Ryan…”
“WHERE IS LILY?””
“She came through the wall.””
“Who?””
Claire's lips trembled.
“Your mother.””
I staggered backward.
“No.””
“I tried to stop her.””
“Where did she take Lily?””
Claire pointed toward the kitchen pantry.
I threw open the door.
Shelves had been pushed aside.
Another hidden passage stood open.
Michael appeared behind me and cursed.
“That tunnel leads outside.””
I turned toward Claire.
“How long ago?””
“Maybe two minutes.””
I ran.
Michael followed.
The tunnel ended behind a concealed door in the detached garage.
Outside, tires screamed.
I burst into the driveway just in time to see a black SUV disappearing around the corner.
“LILY!””
I ran after it uselessly.
Then something fluttered on the driveway.
A photograph.
I picked it up.
It showed Lily sleeping in her bedroom.
On the back, my mother had written an address.
Beneath it were seven words.
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT HER BACK.
Michael read over my shoulder.
His face went pale.
“What?””
He pointed at the address.
“I know this place.””
“Where is it?””
He looked at me.
“The clinic where we were born.””
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered immediately.
“Lily?””
Instead, my mother's voice whispered into my ear.
“Come before midnight, Ryan.””
“Let me talk to my daughter.””
A pause.
Then Lily's frightened voice came through.
“Daddy?””
“Lily! I'm coming.””
“Daddy, Grandma showed me something.””
“What?””
Her breathing trembled.
“A room full of babies.””
My blood froze.
Then my mother took the phone.
“Midnight, Ryan.””
“Don't touch her.””
“You should hurry.””
The call ended.
May you like
And somewhere behind me, Thomas whispered the words that changed everything again.
“That clinic burned down thirty years ago.””
