Chapter 19 - The Children Who Became AdultsRebecca Sloan was forty-two.
A pediatric surgeon.
Married.
Two children.
She knew nothing about Crown Group.
She knew nothing about Room Nine.
She did not know the name Rebecca Sloan had been assigned to her at age three.
She only knew her twelve-year-old son, Adam, had vanished from soccer practice.
Elena and Mara reached Rebecca’s home within forty minutes.
Rebecca stood in the kitchen holding a photograph of Adam.
“Police think my ex-husband took him.”
“Did he?”
“He died three years ago.”
Mara asked whether Rebecca had received anything unusual.
Rebecca produced an envelope.
Falcon-and-key seal.
Inside was a childhood photograph of Rebecca herself.
Except she had never seen it.
She was five.
Standing beside Vanessa.
Behind them stood Gabriel.
Rebecca nearly collapsed when Elena explained only the minimum necessary.
“No.”
Elena did not push.
“No one is asking you to believe all of it now.”
“That picture is fake.”
“It may be.”
“You just said—”
“I said it may be.”
Rebecca stared.
Elena continued calmly.
“You get to determine what is true about your past after your son is safe.”
That mattered.
Rebecca lowered the photograph.
Mara’s phone vibrated.
A message from Clara.
BRING REBECCA TO SAINT AGNES.
COME ALONE.
Rebecca read it over Mara’s shoulder.
“I’m going.”
“No,” Mara said.
“My son is there.”
“We do not know that.”
“I do.”
Elena looked at Rebecca.
“How?”
Rebecca began crying.
“When I saw the school photograph, I remembered the hallway.”
Memory did not return dramatically.
Only fragments.
Yellow tiles.
A bell.
A woman singing.
Being told her mother was dead.
A silver crown painted on a door.
Rebecca pressed her hands to her temples.
“I’ve dreamed about it my whole life.”
Elena understood the cruelty of Clara’s method.
She was not merely summoning voters.
She was forcing memory.
Across the city, Daniel located Jonah Pierce.
He was a public defender.
The red sweater belonged to his daughter.
She had not been kidnapped.
She was sitting safely at home.
But Clara’s photograph convinced Jonah for nineteen terrible minutes that she had been taken.
Marcus Hale turned out to be a retired firefighter.
His Crown history was buried behind a sealed adoption.
Each received a different provocation.
Each was pushed toward Saint Agnes.
Isabel received no threat.
She went willingly.
Vanessa remained inside prison.
Her black key was the problem.
At 7:18 p.m., her unidentified lawyer appeared again.
This time prison surveillance captured his face.
Mara ran identification.
Former federal prosecutor Nathaniel Crane.
Officially dead for six years.
Daniel stared.
“Another false death.”
Crane placed documents before Vanessa.
“You sign this, your sentence disappears.”
Vanessa stared at him through the partition.
“What do I vote for?”
“Continuity.”
“And if I refuse?”
Crane smiled.
“Your sister loses more than freedom.”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
“What sister?”
Crane realized his mistake.
Vanessa leaned forward.
“Elena?”
He said nothing.
“Mara?”
Nothing.
Then Vanessa understood.
“Clara.”
Crane stood.
Vanessa laughed.
“You people still don’t understand women very well.”
He paused.
“You hate her.”
“I don’t even know her.”
“You will.”
Vanessa looked at the black key.
Then pushed it back across the table.
“No.”
Crane’s smile vanished.
“You assaulted an innocent woman because you were jealous and terrified.”
Vanessa flinched.
“You planted evidence.”
“I know.”
“You lied.”
“I know.”
“And now you want to pretend you have principles?”
Vanessa looked through the glass.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“I’m trying them for the first time.”
Crane left.
May you like
Twenty minutes later, Vanessa was found unconscious in her cell.
The black key was gone.
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