Chapter 19 - The First Donor

# Chapter 19 - The First Donor

"Daniel, Olivia Cross isn't the first donor."

Detective Harris's voice sounded strained.

I stood outside Claire's hospital room, gripping my phone.

"What do you mean?"

"We recovered another section of Project Meridian's medical records."

My heart began pounding.

"And?"

"The first donor was registered fourteen years ago."

I stared at the wall.

"Olivia is fourteen."

"Yes. But the first donor was already an adult when Olivia was born."

A cold sensation spread through my chest.

"Who was it?"

Harris hesitated.

"That's what we need to discuss in person."

"Detective, there are three children involved in this nightmare. Two are missing, and someone has been threatening my daughter for weeks. Tell me what you found."

He took a breath.

"The original donor was identified as Subject M-01."

I closed my eyes.

Another code.

Another identity concealed behind letters and numbers.

"Who is M-01?"

Harris's voice became quieter.

"According to the records, the subject was a male member of the Mercer family."

I stopped breathing.

"Richard?"

"No."

"Thomas?"

"No."

A terrible possibility occurred to me.

"Me?"

Harris didn't answer immediately.

Then he said, "Daniel, the records indicate that biological material was collected from you more than fourteen years ago."

For several seconds, I couldn't speak.

Fourteen years.

Long before Lily was born.

Long before Claire and I visited Westbridge Reproductive Center.

Long before I provided a sample during our fertility consultation.

"That's impossible."

"We're still verifying the records."

"I never participated in any donor program."

"The documents don't establish that you knowingly participated."

I pressed my hand against my forehead.

"Then how did they get my DNA?"

"That's one of the questions we're investigating."

I remembered countless medical examinations arranged by my father's private physicians.

Annual physicals.

Blood tests.

Specialist appointments.

Richard had always insisted that the Mercer family receive the best medical care money could buy.

He arranged everything.

Doctors.

Hospitals.

Insurance.

Records.

And I had never questioned him.

"Richard," I whispered.

Harris remained silent.

"My father arranged all my medical care."

"That may be relevant."

I felt sick.

"Did he authorize the collection?"

"We haven't established that."

"Then what did the records say?"

Harris hesitated.

"Daniel, M-01 appears in the earliest Meridian research files."

My pulse quickened.

"Before Westbridge?"

"Yes."

"Before Lily?"

"Yes."

"Before Olivia?"

"Yes."

I stared at the wall.

Project Meridian hadn't begun with my daughter.

It had begun with me.

At eight the following morning, I met Harris and Detective Grant at police headquarters.

A thick folder lay on the conference table.

Harris opened it.

"Before we discuss these records, there's something important."

I sat opposite him.

"What?"

"The anonymous messages you've received have repeatedly pushed you toward particular conclusions."

I frowned.

"About Marcus. Eleanor. Richard."

"Exactly."

Grant leaned forward.

"Some of the information was accurate. Some was incomplete. Some appears deliberately misleading."

I thought about the photographs.

The warnings.

The references to hidden children.

Every message seemed designed to make me suspicious of someone.

"Whoever is sending them knows the investigation," I said.

Harris nodded.

"Possibly through direct involvement or access to someone connected to it."

"Have you traced the sender?"

"Not conclusively."

I rubbed my forehead.

"Then show me the records."

Harris turned the folder toward me.

The first page was dated fourteen years earlier.

PROJECT MERIDIAN — INITIAL DONOR ASSESSMENT

SUBJECT: M-01

STATUS: ACTIVE

Beneath the heading were laboratory notes, specimen identifiers, and medical assessments.

Then I saw my name.

DANIEL MERCER

I stared at it.

My hands began trembling.

"That's me."

Harris nodded.

"The documents identify you."

I turned the page.

A photograph showed me at twenty-eight.

I remembered the haircut.

The dark suit.

The conference badge clipped to my jacket.

It had been taken during a business trip to Boston.

I stared at the image.

"Where did they get this?"

Grant leaned closer.

"Do you recognize the event?"

"Yes."

"Did you undergo a medical examination during that trip?"

I thought carefully.

Then a memory surfaced.

A hotel conference.

A sudden fever.

Marcus insisting I see a private physician.

A clinic appointment arranged through the company.

I remembered blood being drawn.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing alarming.

At the time, I had been grateful.

Now I felt sick.

"Yes," I whispered.

Harris made a note.

"Who arranged it?"

I looked up.

"Marcus Whitmore."

At ten thirty, Marcus arrived for questioning.

I wasn't permitted inside the interview room.

But Harris allowed me to observe part of the interview through a monitor after explaining the limitations.

Marcus sat opposite Detective Grant.

His expression was guarded.

Grant placed the photograph on the table.

"Do you recognize this?"

Marcus looked at it.

"Daniel."

"Where was it taken?"

"Boston, I believe."

"Did you arrange medical care for him during that trip?"

Marcus hesitated.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He was ill."

"What kind of illness?"

"A fever. Exhaustion."

"Who selected the physician?"

"I don't remember."

Grant opened another folder.

"Was it Dr. Adrian Bell?"

Marcus went still.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he whispered, "Yes."

My stomach dropped.

Adrian Bell.

The physician who tested Lily.

The former medical director of Ashcroft House.

The man found dead under suspicious circumstances.

He had examined me fourteen years earlier.

Long before Claire and I sought fertility treatment.

Long before Vanessa entered our home.

Grant continued.

"Did you know Bell collected biological material for Project Meridian?"

Marcus shook his head.

"No."

"Did you authorize it?"

"No."

"Did Richard Mercer?"

Marcus hesitated.

"I don't know."

Grant leaned forward.

"Mr. Whitmore, Daniel's records show he was registered as the program's initial donor."

Marcus looked down.

"I never knew that."

I stared at the screen.

His reaction seemed genuine.

But I had been wrong about Marcus before.

I had trusted him with my company.

My finances.

My family's future.

And he had concealed Richard's survival for seven years.

I no longer knew how to distinguish fear from guilt.

At noon, I returned to the hospital.

Claire was sitting beside the window.

She looked stronger.

Her doctors had begun discussing rehabilitation and the possibility of discharge to a supervised recovery setting.

But she still woke from nightmares.

Sometimes she reached for the bedside lamp in panic.

Sometimes she asked whether the door was locked.

And every time Lily visited, Claire held her as though someone might take her away again.

When I entered, she looked up.

"Dan?"

I sat beside her.

"Project Meridian started with me."

Her expression changed.

"What?"

"Fourteen years ago."

Claire stared at me.

"Before we met?"

I nodded.

"Adrian Bell collected samples during a medical appointment."

She closed her eyes.

"Oh, God."

"Marcus arranged the visit."

Claire looked frightened.

"Did he know?"

"He says he didn't."

I stared at the floor.

"The program used my genetic material. Later, Westbridge created embryos. Lily and Sophie were born."

Claire took my hand.

"Dan, you didn't know."

I looked at her.

"Neither did you."

Tears filled her eyes.

For a moment, we simply sat together.

Then Claire whispered, "What about Olivia?"

My stomach tightened.

"She's fourteen."

"The same age as the program."

I nodded.

Claire looked away.

"Then maybe she was the first child."

I felt a chill.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

At two fifteen, Harris called with news about Olivia Cross.

"We located another school record."

I stood.

"Where?"

"A private institution that specialized in students with complex medical needs."

My pulse quickened.

"Was Olivia sick?"

"The records indicate she received periodic medical evaluations."

"What kind?"

"We're still reviewing them."

"Was Adrian Bell involved?"

"Yes."

I closed my eyes.

Of course.

"What else?"

Harris hesitated.

"Olivia was enrolled under several names."

My stomach tightened.

"Which names?"

"Olivia Cross. Olivia Vale. And one other."

I stared at the wall.

"What?"

He took a breath.

"Olivia Mercer."

I stopped breathing.

Another Mercer.

Another child whose identity had been altered.

"Was she Richard's daughter?"

"We haven't confirmed her parentage."

"Was Natalie her mother?"

"That appears likely, but the records are inconsistent."

I rubbed my forehead.

"Then whose genetic material was used?"

Harris paused.

"That's what we're investigating."

I felt sick.

Fourteen years earlier, someone had collected my samples.

Fourteen years ago, Olivia had been born.

The timing was impossible to ignore.

"Detective," I whispered, "could Olivia be my daughter?"

Harris remained silent for a moment.

"Biologically, it's possible. But we need direct evidence."

I closed my eyes.

Another daughter.

A child I might never have known existed.

A teenager who had spent her life moving between institutions and false identities.

And now she was missing.

At four thirty, I received another anonymous message.

This time, there was no photograph.

Only a sentence.

You are finally asking the right questions.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message arrived.

Olivia was the beginning.

My pulse quickened.

A third followed.

Sophie was the replacement.

I felt my stomach tighten.

Then the final message appeared.

Lily was the mistake.

I stared at those words.

The mistake.

My daughter.

The child who had saved Claire by hearing her voice through a wall.

Someone had reduced her entire existence to a mistake.

I felt anger rise so violently that my hands shook.

I forwarded the messages to Harris.

Then I typed a response before I could stop myself.

My daughter is not a mistake.

The reply came almost immediately.

Then prove you can protect her.

I stared at the screen.

Another message appeared.

You have forty-eight hours.

My heart stopped.

For what?

The typing indicator appeared.

Then disappeared.

Finally, the answer arrived.

Bring the original Riverside file to Ashcroft House.

I called Harris immediately.

He listened while I read the messages aloud.

"Don't go," he said.

"I wasn't planning to."

"Good."

"But whoever sent this knows about the file."

"Yes."

"And they want it."

"Apparently."

I paced the corridor.

"Why?"

Harris hesitated.

"Because it may contain evidence they don't want us to examine."

I stopped.

"Then what's in the file?"

"We're still reviewing it."

"Detective, someone is threatening my daughter."

"I know."

"Then tell me what you found."

Harris took a breath.

"Daniel, the Riverside file contains a sealed section we haven't fully authenticated."

My pulse accelerated.

"What section?"

"Financial agreements related to Project Meridian."

"Who signed them?"

"Several people."

"Names."

He hesitated.

"Richard Mercer. Evelyn Shaw. Dr. Adrian Bell."

I waited.

"And?"

Harris's voice became quieter.

"Thomas Vale."

My heart stopped.

"Thomas?"

"Yes."

I stared at the wall.

"My biological father?"

"According to the documents."

I closed my eyes.

Thomas had claimed Eleanor arranged his disappearance.

He had warned me that Richard was hiding the truth.

But now his name appeared on agreements connected to the program that used my genetic material.

"Was Thomas involved?"

"We don't know the extent of his role."

I swallowed.

"Then why would he call me?"

Harris paused.

"Perhaps he wanted you to find the file."

I felt a chill.

"And now someone wants it back."

"Exactly."

At six, I visited Richard.

He was sitting beside a window, his cane resting against the chair.

When I entered, he looked tired.

"Daniel."

I remained standing.

"Did you know Project Meridian used my genetic material?"

His expression changed.

"What?"

"Fourteen years ago."

He stared at me.

"That's impossible."

"Adrian Bell collected samples."

Richard looked away.

I stepped closer.

"Did you authorize it?"

"No."

"Did Thomas?"

Richard's face tightened.

"Why are you asking about Thomas?"

"His name is on the agreements."

Richard closed his eyes.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he whispered, "I warned Eleanor."

My pulse accelerated.

"About what?"

"Thomas."

I stared at him.

"What did he do?"

Richard looked at me.

"Thomas believed he could solve everything through science."

I frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"He was obsessed with genetic inheritance."

My stomach tightened.

"Why?"

"Because he believed certain illnesses in our family could be prevented."

I stared at him.

"By creating children?"

Richard looked away.

"He believed carefully selected genetic combinations could reduce risk."

I felt sick.

"That's not how you treat people."

"I know."

"Did you stop him?"

Richard hesitated.

"I tried."

I laughed bitterly.

"That's what everyone says."

He looked at me.

"Daniel, I didn't know he had involved you."

I stared at him.

"Then why was your signature on the agreements?"

Richard closed his eyes.

"Because I helped fund the early research."

My chest tightened.

"You funded it."

"Before I understood what it would become."

I stepped backward.

My father had financed a program that eventually created children using my genetic material.

And now he wanted me to believe he had been powerless to stop it.

I turned toward the door.

"Daniel."

I stopped.

Richard's voice trembled.

"There's something you need to know about Olivia."

I looked back.

"What?"

He swallowed.

"She wasn't supposed to survive."

I felt my blood run cold.

"Explain."

Richard lowered his eyes.

"The first pregnancy was considered unsuccessful."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Thomas was told the embryo hadn't developed normally."

My stomach tightened.

"But Olivia was born."

Richard nodded.

"Yes."

"Then someone lied."

He looked at me.

"Yes."

"Who?"

Richard hesitated.

"Eleanor."

At eight fifteen, Detective Harris called.

His voice was urgent.

"Daniel, we found something in the Riverside records."

I stood.

"What?"

"A document that changes our understanding of Project Meridian."

My pulse quickened.

"How?"

"The program wasn't originally designed around Lily or Sophie."

"I know. It started with me."

"Yes. But the first intended recipient wasn't Eleanor."

I froze.

"What?"

"The medical compatibility program was created for someone else."

My stomach tightened.

"Who?"

Harris hesitated.

"A child."

I stared at the wall.

"What child?"

"According to the records, a girl who was seriously ill fourteen years ago."

I felt my pulse hammer.

"Olivia?"

"No."

I stopped breathing.

"Then who?"

Harris took a breath.

"The child's name was Amelia."

I frowned.

"Amelia who?"

He hesitated.

"Amelia Vale."

My biological father's surname.

I stared at the wall.

"Was she Thomas's daughter?"

"According to the documents."

I felt sick.

"How old was she?"

"Six."

My heart stopped.

A six-year-old girl.

Fourteen years ago.

That meant Amelia would be twenty now.

If she had survived.

"Did she?"

Harris was silent.

"Detective, did Amelia survive?"

He took a breath.

"We don't know."

I closed my eyes.

Another hidden child.

Another member of a family I barely understood.

Then Harris said something that made my blood run cold.

"Daniel, the records indicate that Amelia was the reason Project Meridian began."

I stared at the wall.

"Why?"

"Because she needed a compatible donor."

I swallowed.

"And Thomas couldn't find one?"

"Apparently not."

I felt sick.

"So he created a program."

"That's what the documents suggest."

I looked toward Claire's room.

My wife was sleeping.

Lily was safe under police protection.

Sophie and Olivia were still missing.

And now I was learning that the entire program might have begun with another child who needed medical treatment.

A child whose existence had been hidden from me.

"Detective," I whispered, "who was Amelia's mother?"

Harris hesitated.

Then he said, "That's the part we haven't confirmed."

I closed my eyes.

Another mystery.

Another secret.

Then my phone vibrated.

An anonymous message.

A photograph appeared.

A young woman stood beside a hospital bed.

She had dark blonde hair.

Gray eyes.

And a small crescent-moon pendant around her neck.

She looked directly into the camera.

Beneath the photograph was a message.

Amelia is alive.

My heart stopped.

Another message followed.

And she wants to meet her brother.

I stared at the screen.

Her brother.

Me.

Then the final message arrived.

"Bring the Riverside file, Daniel. Or you'll never meet the sister your family created an entire nightmare to save."