Chapter 14 - The Woman Who Had Been Protecting Them
Julian immediately confronted Naomi.
She did not deny knowing Samuel Vale.
“I investigated him six years ago.”
“For what?”
“Unauthorized neurological research involving defense contractors.”
“And you didn’t tell us?”
“The investigation was classified.”
Clara stared at her.
“Jonathan told us not to trust you.”
Naomi’s jaw tightened.
“Jonathan Vance is not a reliable witness.”
“Why?”
“Because he worked with Samuel.”
Julian stepped closer.
“So did you.”
“No.”
Naomi opened a secure cabinet.
Inside were hundreds of files.
She had spent six years building a case against a network known internally as Continuum.
Project Orpheus had evolved beyond Arthur.
Private clinics used memory-altering treatments for interrogations, witness manipulation, trauma conditioning and behavior modification.
Some government contractors funded it.
Others tried to expose it.
Nobody knew which institutions had been compromised.
Naomi had approached Theodore shortly before his death.
He agreed to help.
Then he died.
“Heart attack?” Julian asked.
Naomi shook her head.
“Toxin.”
Julian closed his eyes.
Another family lie.
“Arthur?”
“We assumed.”
“You don’t anymore?”
“No.”
Naomi believed Samuel killed Theodore.
Theodore had discovered Samuel was continuing Orpheus independently.
Arthur wanted the research.
Theodore wanted it destroyed.
Samuel wanted neither man controlling it.
“So Samuel killed my father?”
“Most likely.”
Clara looked at Naomi.
“And Arthur?”
“Arthur may think Samuel is helping him escape.”
“You think Samuel is using him.”
“Yes.”
That theory became reality two days later.
Arthur reappeared.
He walked alone into the lobby of a police station in Albany.
Barefoot.
Disoriented.
Unable to remember his own address.
Doctors found no injury.
Toxicology showed an advanced memory-disruption compound.
Arthur recognized Clara.
He did not recognize Margaret.
He remembered the research center.
He did not remember escaping custody.
He repeatedly asked for Samuel.
Clara visited him once.
Arthur sat behind reinforced glass.
He looked smaller.
For most of her life she had imagined a moment when her father would finally become powerless.
She expected satisfaction.
Instead she felt emptiness.
Arthur touched the glass.
“Clara.”
She remained standing.
“Did I hurt you?”
The question nearly destroyed her.
Was he manipulating her?
Did he truly not remember?
Doctors could not tell.
Clara answered anyway.
“Yes.”
Arthur looked down.
“How badly?”
She thought about her wrists.
Nora.
The children.
The lies.
The fire.
“The kind that lasts after the person who caused it is gone.”
Arthur began crying.
Clara had never seen her father cry.
She turned away.
“Clara.”
She stopped.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked back.
“You don’t get forgiveness because someone stole the memories that should make you ashamed.”
Then she left.
It was not revenge.
It was better.
It was freedom from needing revenge to repair her.
Arthur remained in federal custody.
Vancewood Biomedical entered permanent receivership.
Victims began receiving settlements.
Cole testified.
Margaret joined Nora in Vermont.
Elias helped establish a foundation for survivors.
The empire Arthur built had fallen.
For the first time, Clara believed the worst might truly be behind them.
Then she and Julian finally held the wedding reception they never finished.
Only thirty people attended.
No security spectacle.
No political donors.
No corporate board.
Clara wore a simple burgundy dress.
Julian wore no tie.
Nora danced badly.
Elias danced worse.
Margaret laughed.
Clara stood beneath summer lights and watched her family becoming something different from the one Arthur created.
Julian approached.
“You disappeared.”
“I’m standing twenty feet from you.”
“Emotionally dramatic disappearance.”
She smiled.
He held out his hand.
“Dance?”
“I’m terrible.”
“So is everyone here.”
She took his hand.
For several minutes there were no secret laboratories.
No fathers.
No missing children.
No federal investigations.
Just music.
When the song ended, Julian kissed her forehead.
“We made it.”
Clara wanted to believe him.
Then Naomi arrived.
No dress.
No invitation.
Her expression told Clara everything.
“What happened?”
Naomi handed Julian a sealed envelope.
May you like
Jonathan Vance had been found.
Dead.
