Chapter 8 - The Mother Who Returned from the Dead

# Chapter 8 - The Mother Who Returned from the Dead

Catherine Bell had imagined killing Charles Vance more times than she could count.

During eight years of captivity, she had imagined it while staring at locked doors, while swallowing medication she did not need, and while listening to guards discuss her son as though he were a piece of laboratory equipment.

But now, standing in Charles's private office with a pistol aimed at his chest, she discovered that hatred was far easier to carry than murder.

Charles stared at her.

For the first time in his adult life, the billionaire looked genuinely afraid.

"Catherine?"

She almost smiled.

"You remember my name."

His gaze dropped to the weapon.

"Put that down."

"Sit."

"Catherine, listen—"

"I said sit."

Charles slowly lowered himself into his leather chair.

Outside, the rain battered the enormous windows. The city below remained asleep, unaware that one of its most powerful men was being held at gunpoint by a woman the world believed had disappeared.

Charles studied her face.

She was thinner than he remembered. A faint scar crossed her left eyebrow, and her auburn hair had lost some of its former brightness.

But her eyes were unchanged.

Those eyes had once looked at him with love.

Now they held nothing but contempt.

"How did you get in?" he asked.

Catherine tilted her head.

"Still asking the wrong questions."

"The house is secured."

"Your security isn't as loyal as you think."

Charles's expression tightened.

"Richard?"

She did not answer.

Instead, she stepped toward his desk.

"Where is Thomas?"

"Safe."

"Don't use that word with me."

Charles leaned back.

"He's with Victoria."

"I know."

"Then you know he's being cared for."

Catherine's grip tightened around the pistol.

"By the woman you convinced was his mother."

Charles said nothing.

Catherine felt a familiar pain spread through her chest.

For eight years, she had survived by imagining the moment she would finally hold her son again.

She had pictured him running toward her.

Calling her Mommy.

Recognizing her somehow, despite the years.

But the reality was crueler.

Thomas had another mother.

A woman who had raised him, comforted him, taught him to walk, and loved him through every birthday Catherine had missed.

And Catherine had no idea whether there was room for her in his life.

"Does Victoria know?" she asked.

Charles looked away.

"She knows something."

"Does she know you stole my baby?"

His jaw tightened.

"Thomas is my son too."

Catherine laughed bitterly.

"Then why did you hurt him?"

Charles went still.

She watched his expression carefully.

"You thought I wouldn't find out?"

"Catherine—"

"Noah took the beating you meant for Thomas."

Charles's face hardened.

"That boy should never have been near my property."

"That boy is a child."

"He interfered in matters he didn't understand."

Catherine stepped closer.

"And what exactly did Thomas discover?"

Charles remained silent.

"The basement?"

Nothing.

"Project Gemini?"

His eyes flickered.

Catherine noticed.

She lowered the pistol slightly.

"Or did he find the records showing what you did to all three boys?"

Charles's expression changed.

And Catherine knew she had finally asked the right question.

At St. Catherine's Medical Center, Victoria Vance was sitting beside Thomas when Detective Elena Brooks received an urgent call.

The detective listened without speaking.

Then she stood abruptly.

"Secure the hospital entrances."

Victoria looked up.

"What happened?"

Elena held up one finger.

"Yes. I want officers at every exit. Nobody approaches the children without authorization."

She ended the call.

Victoria rose.

"Elena?"

The detective's expression was grave.

"Your husband has reported a security breach at his private office."

Victoria stared at her.

"Charles?"

"Apparently, an unidentified woman entered the building."

"Who?"

"We don't know."

Victoria felt her stomach tighten.

"Is anyone hurt?"

"Not according to the initial report."

Thomas looked between them.

"Mom, is Dad coming here?"

Victoria immediately knelt beside him.

"No, sweetheart."

"Promise?"

She hesitated.

Then she answered carefully.

"The police are here to keep everyone safe."

Thomas nodded, but his hands continued trembling.

Noah watched silently from the bed.

Victoria noticed his expression.

"What is it, Noah?"

He looked toward the door.

"Did they find Emily?"

Elena turned.

"Do you know Emily?"

Noah nodded.

"She helped me."

"Where?"

Noah hesitated.

"At the house."

Victoria's heart quickened.

"You've been inside our mansion before?"

Noah looked down.

"Not upstairs."

Elena moved closer.

"Can you explain?"

Noah swallowed.

"Rebecca used to take me there when I was little."

Victoria stared at him.

"Rebecca brought you to our house?"

"Not the big house. The building underneath."

Elena opened her notebook.

"How old were you?"

"I don't remember."

"Did you see other children?"

Noah nodded.

"Emily. Daniel. Sometimes other kids."

Victoria pressed a hand against her chest.

"How many?"

Noah looked frightened.

"I don't know. They moved people around."

Elena crouched beside him.

"Did you ever meet a woman named Catherine?"

Noah frowned.

He thought for several seconds.

Then his eyes widened.

"The singing lady."

Victoria froze.

"What singing lady?"

Noah looked toward the window.

"She sang through the walls."

Catherine's pistol remained aimed at Charles.

But the moment she heard the name Noah, her expression changed.

"Where is he?" she demanded.

Charles frowned.

"Who?"

"Noah Reed."

"At the hospital."

"Is he alive?"

Charles studied her.

"Why do you care so much about Rebecca's boy?"

Catherine felt her stomach twist.

"Because Rebecca saved him."

"Rebecca stole him."

"She rescued him from your laboratory."

Charles leaned forward.

"You have no idea what Rebecca did."

Catherine's eyes narrowed.

"Then tell me."

He hesitated.

"Rebecca altered the records."

"I know."

"She took a child who wasn't hers."

"I know that too."

Charles watched her.

"Do you know whose child she took?"

Catherine's expression hardened.

"Victoria's."

Charles said nothing.

Catherine stepped closer.

"That's why you told Victoria her first baby died. You wanted her child for the program."

Charles's jaw tightened.

"You think you understand everything."

"I understand enough."

"No."

He slowly rose.

Catherine raised the pistol.

"Sit down."

Charles stopped.

Then he spoke quietly.

"Rebecca didn't save Noah because she was kind."

Catherine stared at him.

"She saved him because she discovered what Mercer intended to do."

"What?"

Charles hesitated.

"The children were never supposed to leave the program."

Catherine felt a chill.

"What do you mean?"

"They were selected for long-term observation."

"Observation of what?"

Charles looked toward his computer.

"Something Adrian believed could revolutionize medicine."

Catherine's voice trembled.

"Charles, what did you do to those babies?"

He did not answer.

Instead, he said:

"Ask Rebecca why she chose Noah and left the other boy behind."

Catherine's face drained.

"She couldn't take both."

"That's what she told you?"

"Yes."

Charles smiled without warmth.

"Then perhaps you should ask her what happened before she escaped."

At the industrial complex known as Facility Seven, Emily sat inside a locked examination room.

Her wrists were free, but the door was secured electronically.

She had been separated from the transfer team nearly an hour earlier.

No one had explained why.

A fluorescent light flickered overhead.

The room smelled of antiseptic.

Emily stared at the small silver pendant resting against her chest.

The transmitter had stopped working.

Someone had disabled the signal.

She had hoped Rebecca would find her before that happened.

Now she was alone.

A lock clicked.

Emily looked up.

Dr. Adrian Mercer entered.

He carried a medical folder.

Emily's expression hardened.

"You."

Adrian stopped.

"Hello, Emily."

"Where's Daniel?"

"He's safe."

She laughed bitterly.

"You people love that word."

Adrian placed the folder on the table.

"I need to ask you something."

Emily crossed her arms.

"I'm not answering."

"This is important."

"So was Rebecca."

Adrian's face tightened.

Emily continued.

"So was Catherine. So were the children you kept downstairs."

"Emily—"

"Did you think we'd forget?"

Adrian looked toward the security camera.

Then he lowered his voice.

"Do you still have the original records?"

Emily's heart pounded.

She kept her expression blank.

"What records?"

"The ones you told Richard about."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Adrian sighed.

"Emily, Charles is going to destroy everything."

"Good."

"No. Not good."

He leaned forward.

"Those records are the only proof of what happened."

Emily studied him.

For years, Adrian Mercer had been one of the most frightening people in her life.

He ordered examinations.

Approved medications.

Signed transfer forms.

And never answered questions.

Now he looked exhausted.

Almost desperate.

"Why should I trust you?" she asked.

Adrian hesitated.

"Because I made a terrible mistake."

Emily laughed.

"One?"

He looked down.

"No."

She leaned forward.

"How many children, Doctor?"

Adrian's hands trembled.

"Emily—"

"How many?"

He closed his eyes.

Then whispered:

"Seventeen."

Emily went completely still.

She had known there were others.

She had heard names.

Seen faces.

Watched children disappear.

But she had never known the number.

"Seventeen?" she repeated.

Adrian nodded.

"Over the course of the program."

Emily felt sick.

"Where are they?"

Adrian looked away.

"Some were transferred."

"Where?"

"Different facilities."

"And the others?"

He said nothing.

Emily stared at him.

Then she whispered:

"How many died?"

Adrian's eyes filled with tears.

Before he could answer, the examination room door opened.

A security guard stepped inside.

"Dr. Mercer, Mr. Vance wants you on the phone."

Adrian turned.

"Tell him I'll call back."

The guard shook his head.

"He said now."

Adrian hesitated.

Then he looked at Emily.

"Don't tell anyone what we discussed."

She stared at him.

"Why?"

His voice was barely audible.

"Because someone inside this facility is trying to finish the experiment."

At 5:12 a.m., Victoria received a message from an unknown number.

It contained a short audio recording.

She played it.

At first, there was only static.

Then a woman's voice began singing softly.

A lullaby.

Victoria froze.

She knew the melody.

Her mother had sung it to her when she was little.

And years later, Victoria had sung it to Thomas whenever he couldn't sleep.

But the voice in the recording wasn't hers.

It was unfamiliar.

Gentle.

Exhausted.

And filled with grief.

The song stopped.

A child whispered:

"Again, please."

The woman began singing once more.

Victoria's eyes filled.

Noah looked up from his hospital bed.

"That's her."

Victoria turned.

"Who?"

"The singing lady."

Elena approached.

"Where did you hear her?"

Noah swallowed.

"Through the wall."

"What wall?"

"The room next to mine."

Victoria felt a chill.

"Was she locked inside?"

Noah nodded.

"She cried sometimes."

Elena looked toward Victoria.

"Can you send me that recording?"

Victoria nodded.

Then another message appeared.

Her name is Catherine Bell.

Victoria stared at the screen.

A second message followed.

She is Thomas's biological mother.

Victoria felt her knees weaken.

She had suspected it.

The photograph.

The false maternity records.

The video showing Charles placing Thomas into her arms.

But seeing the words written plainly made the truth impossible to escape.

Thomas was Catherine's child.

Victoria looked toward her son.

He was drawing something on a sheet of paper.

A house.

A tree.

Three figures holding hands.

He looked up and smiled.

"Mom, look."

Victoria forced herself to smile.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart."

Thomas held up the drawing.

"It's you, me, and Noah."

Victoria's heart broke.

She crossed the room and kissed his forehead.

Then her phone vibrated again.

A final message appeared.

If you want to meet Catherine, come to the Vance estate before sunrise.

Victoria stared at it.

Elena noticed.

"What is it?"

Victoria showed her the screen.

The detective's expression hardened.

"You're not going there alone."

Victoria looked toward Thomas.

Then Noah.

Then the message.

For the first time that night, she understood that discovering the truth might require confronting the woman whose child she had unknowingly raised.

And she had no idea whether Catherine would see her as another victim.

Or as the woman who had stolen her son.

In Charles's office, Catherine lowered the pistol.

Not because she trusted him.

But because she had finally understood something.

Charles was frightened of the truth.

And frightened men made mistakes.

"You said Rebecca lied," Catherine said.

Charles watched her carefully.

"She did."

"Then show me the records."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know what happened to the children."

Charles hesitated.

Catherine stepped closer.

"You've spent years telling everyone you were protecting them. Prove it."

For a moment, he seemed tempted.

Then he shook his head.

"Some things are better left buried."

Catherine smiled sadly.

"That's what you told me when you took Thomas."

Charles's expression changed.

She continued.

"You said he'd be safer without me."

"He was."

"You locked me away."

"You were unstable."

"You drugged me."

"You threatened to expose the program."

"Because children were suffering!"

Charles slammed his hand against the desk.

"Because you didn't understand what we were trying to accomplish!"

Catherine flinched.

Then she straightened.

"What were you trying to accomplish, Charles?"

He stared at her.

For several seconds, the only sound was the rain.

Then he whispered:

"To save Thomas."

Catherine froze.

"What?"

Charles looked toward the window.

"Your son was born with a condition the doctors couldn't treat."

Catherine shook her head.

"No."

"Adrian believed the Gemini protocol could help."

"Thomas was healthy."

"That's what we told you."

Catherine felt the room tilt.

Charles continued.

"He needed treatment."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have refused."

Catherine stared at him.

"What did you do to my baby?"

Charles looked away.

And for the first time, she saw something resembling guilt in his expression.

"Charles."

He remained silent.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Charles slowly turned back.

"The treatment required a biological match."

Catherine's breathing stopped.

"What kind of match?"

"A donor."

She stared at him.

"Who?"

Charles looked directly into her eyes.

"Victoria's child."

Catherine felt the pistol slip from her fingers.

It struck the carpet with a dull thud.

Charles continued quietly.

"That's why Noah was taken."

Catherine could barely breathe.

"And the other boy?"

Charles hesitated.

"Daniel."

"Yes."

He looked toward his computer.

"Daniel was the backup."

Catherine stared at him in horror.

Three children.

Three lives.

One secret.

And a father who had decided that saving one child justified destroying the others.

Before she could speak, Charles's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

His expression changed.

"Who is it?" Catherine demanded.

Charles answered.

"Yes?"

A man's voice spoke urgently.

"Sir, we have a problem."

Charles's jaw tightened.

"What now?"

"The boy escaped."

"Which boy?"

"Daniel."

Charles closed his eyes.

"Find him."

"We're trying, sir."

A pause.

Then the man added:

"There's something else."

Charles opened his eyes.

"What?"

"The boy didn't leave alone."

Catherine stared at him.

Charles's voice sharpened.

"Who was with him?"

The answer came through the phone.

"A woman."

Charles went still.

"What woman?"

The guard hesitated.

"She identified herself as Rebecca Reed."

Catherine felt her heart stop.

Rebecca.

Alive.

And apparently inside the estate.

Charles gripped the phone.

"Where are they now?"

The guard's voice trembled.

"We lost them near the eastern service road."

Charles cursed.

Then the man said something that made him freeze.

"Sir, before they disappeared, the woman accessed the old neonatal archive."

Charles's face drained of color.

"What did she take?"

"A sealed file."

"Which file?"

A pause.

Then:

"Project Gemini. Final Protocol."

Charles slowly lowered the phone.

Catherine stared at him.

"What is the Final Protocol?"

He did not answer.

She stepped closer.

"Charles."

His face had turned gray.

Finally, he whispered:

"If Rebecca has that file, she'll discover why the three boys were chosen."

Catherine felt a cold wave of dread.

"And why were they chosen?"

Charles looked at her.

For the first time, he seemed unable to maintain his carefully constructed lies.

"Because Thomas was never the patient."

Catherine stopped breathing.

Charles swallowed.

"He was the control."

A terrible silence followed.

Then Catherine whispered:

"Then who was the experiment really for?"

Charles stared at the empty doorway.

And in a voice barely above a whisper, he answered:

"Victoria."