Chapter 12 - The Cancer That Was Not Random
Natalie returned to St. Matthew’s beneath federal protection.
The tumor removed during surgery was sent to three independent laboratories. Dr. Vargas expected ordinary pathology results confirming the type and stage of cancer.
Instead, the laboratories returned conflicting findings.
The cells were malignant.
But they behaved unlike any standard breast-cancer cells in the national database.
Some died instantly when exposed to heat.
Others regenerated after radiation.
A third group contained synthetic genetic sequences patented by a Havenbridge subsidiary twenty years earlier.
Dr. Vargas met Ethan and Natalie in a secured conference room.
“I need to be careful,” she said. “These results do not mean your cancer was intentionally created.”
“But it is possible,” Natalie replied.
“Yes.”
“Could someone have caused it during the biopsy?”
“No. The tumor existed before the procedure. But a virus, medication, or exposure could have altered the cells months or years earlier.”
Ethan thought of Natalie’s childhood.
The fires.
The orphanage.
The laboratories.
“Can you treat it?”
“We believe so. The primary tumor was removed successfully. We’ll begin a modified chemotherapy plan after additional testing.”
Natalie touched the scar beneath her collar.
“And the synthetic sequences?”
“We’re studying them.”
Miriam stood near the window under guard.
She had refused to leave Natalie after the raid.
Natalie had refused to call her Mother.
Their relationship existed inside a narrow, painful space filled with thirty-two years of absence.
“Elias infected her,” Miriam said.
Dr. Vargas looked at her.
“With what?”
“He called it the Ember Variant.”
Ethan remembered the video.
The child unharmed inside a burned laboratory.
“What was it designed to do?” he asked.
Miriam stared at Natalie.
“To make human tissue resistant to extreme environments.”
“Fire?”
“Heat, radiation, toxins, and certain biological agents.”
Natalie laughed without humor.
“Apparently, it wasn’t resistant to cancer.”
“It was never stable.”
“Then why use it on children?”
Miriam’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because Elias believed adults had already been damaged by ordinary life. He wanted bodies young enough to adapt.”
Natalie stood too quickly and winced.
Ethan supported her.
“You should rest.”
“I have rested while everyone else decided what my body was worth.”
She looked at Miriam.
“How many children?”
“At least sixty.”
“How many survived?”
“I don’t know.”
“The missing children you mentioned.”
Miriam nodded.
“After St. Agnes burned, Havenbridge relocated the survivors under new identities.”
“Where?”
“Across the country. Some were adopted. Some were placed with foundation employees.”
“Like Lorraine.”
“Yes.”
Natalie looked toward the secure folder containing photographs from St. Agnes.
“Why did Lorraine treat me like that if she was supposed to protect me?”
“She resented you.”
“For what?”
“You were the reason Robert stayed connected to Havenbridge. You were the reason their marriage became a cover. And your trust funded the life she believed should have belonged to Brooke.”
Ethan struggled to reconcile the woman who raised him with the crimes described around him.
“Was the real Lorraine involved in delaying Natalie’s care?”
Miriam looked down.
“Yes.”
“Then Elaine only continued what she started.”
“Yes.”
“Who killed Lorraine?”
“We don’t know.”
Elaine Mercer refused to answer questions.
She sat in federal custody, requesting immunity in exchange for information about the Continuity Council.
Robert underwent surgery for his gunshot wound and was charged with murder connected to the body found in his grave.
Brooke remained with Caleb in protective housing.
Everything appeared contained.
Yet the countdown continued.
Nine days.
Eight days.
Seven.
Each morning, the trust system sent Natalie a message.
PROTOCOL AWAKENING APPROACHES.
On the sixth day, Ethan received a package at the hospital.
There was no return address.
Inside was Natalie’s grandmother’s wedding ring.
The ring she had sold to pay for the biopsy.
Beneath it lay a photograph of Lorraine’s body.
She was seated in a chair inside an unknown room.
The date on the photograph was three days earlier.
Brooke had said Lorraine died six months ago.
Either Brooke had lied or the photograph had been manipulated.
On the back was a message.
THE WOMAN IN FEDERAL CUSTODY IS NOT ELAINE MERCER.
Ethan showed Mills.
The detective immediately ordered fingerprint verification.
Two hours later, the results arrived.
The prisoner believed to be Elaine Mercer was biologically identical to Lorraine Cole.
Ethan read the report twice.
“Identical?”
Mills nodded.
“Same fingerprints?”
“No. But same DNA profile.”
“A twin?”
“There is no record of Lorraine having a sister.”
Miriam looked at the photograph.
“She did.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“At St. Agnes,” Miriam continued, “Lorraine was part of the staff, but she was also part of the program.”
“She was experimented on?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her sister?”
Miriam’s expression became fearful.
“Elaine Mercer.”
Natalie looked at the photograph.
“So which one raised Ethan?”
“We may never know.”
The conference-room television turned on by itself.
A live video feed appeared.
The woman in federal custody sat alone inside her cell.
She looked directly at the camera.
Then she smiled.
“Ethan,” she said, though there was no microphone visible, “your wife has five days left.”
The image changed.
A map appeared.
Red points illuminated across the country.
Sixty locations.
Sixty surviving children.
May you like
Then one point began flashing inside St. Matthew’s Medical Center.
Natalie’s room.
