Chapter 14 - The House Beneath the Hospital
The clinic stood abandoned outside San Jerónimo.
Its official name had been Santa Lucía Recovery Center. According to public records, it closed after a fire seven years earlier.
The buildings remained intact.
Julian arrived with Elena, Mara, Daniel, and a forensic team.
He could walk only short distances with a brace, but he refused to remain in the vehicle.
Lorena’s statement had contained one verifiable detail.
Beneath the clinic was a chamber identical to the blue room under her mansion.
The team found the entrance behind a burned laundry facility.
Daniel opened the steel door.
Cold air emerged.
Inside were rows of patient rooms.
Each door carried a number instead of a name.
Elena stopped before Room 12.
“I remember this hallway.”
Julian watched her.
“What happened here?”
“I woke up after the car crash. They told me my name was Adriana. Every day, a doctor showed me photographs of a life I had never lived.”
“How did you escape?”
“I caused a fire.”
Mara looked around.
“The fire report said two patients died.”
“No one died.”
“How can you be certain?”
“Because there were no other patients.”
A sound came from Room 12.
Everyone raised their weapons.
Mara opened the door.
The room was empty.
A laptop sat on the bed.
Its screen displayed a live video.
Sebastián Vale appeared inside an aircraft hangar.
Behind him stood Victor, his injured shoulder bandaged.
Julian stared.
Victor had disappeared from federal medical custody that morning.
Sebastián smiled at the camera.
“Good afternoon, Julian.”
Mara checked the device.
“It is a prerecorded message.”
Sebastián continued.
“By the time you see this, Victor and I will be beyond your jurisdiction. Do not blame him. Survival has always been his most reliable instinct.”
Victor stood motionless behind him.
His face revealed nothing.
“You released part of Aurelia Nine,” Sebastián said. “A brave decision. Perhaps even a moral one. Unfortunately, the archive contained several protections.”
Images appeared beside him.
Bank accounts.
Military facilities.
Children entering schools.
“Every exposed site has already been abandoned. Every subject still useful to us has been relocated.”
Julian felt sick.
“You saved evidence,” Sebastián said. “But you also warned the people responsible.”
The video changed.
The masked woman from the tunnel appeared in a brightly lit room.
Her mask was removed.
She had Elena’s face.
Not merely similar features.
The same scar.
The same eyes.
The same expression.
Elena stepped closer to the screen.
Sebastián’s voice continued.
“You are wondering whether she is a sister, a copy, or the original. That question is the foundation of Aurelia.”
The woman spoke.
“My name is Elena Serrano.”
Elena beside Julian whispered, “No.”
The woman on the screen continued.
“I was born on April 18. I broke my left wrist when I was nine. My brother Julian was afraid of thunder, but he pretended he was not. Our mother sang La barca de cristal when we could not sleep.”
Julian looked at the Elena standing beside him.
Her eyes filled with horror.
The woman on the screen knew their private childhood memories.
Then Sebastián returned.
“Identity does not belong to the body. It belongs to the most convincing memory.”
The video ended.
A timer appeared.
Ten seconds.
Mara shouted, “Everyone out!”
The team ran.
Julian’s brace caught against the doorway.
Elena pulled him free.
They reached the corridor as an explosion tore through Room 12.
Smoke and debris filled the underground level.
The ceiling collapsed between Julian and the exit.
He fell.
Elena dragged him toward another door.
Behind it, they found a narrow staircase descending deeper underground.
“There is no other way,” she said.
They entered.
The staircase ended inside a hidden laboratory untouched by the fire.
Rows of freezers lined the walls.
A generator still operated.
At the center stood a metal table holding nine black folders.
Only six remained.
Julian opened the first.
Subject 1.
The photograph inside showed him as a child.
The second showed Elena.
The third showed Victor.
The fourth showed Lorena.
The fifth showed Daniel.
Julian looked toward him through the smoke-filled doorway.
“Daniel was a subject?”
Daniel entered the laboratory.
His face had become unreadable.
Elena opened the sixth folder.
The label read:
Subject 9.
Status active.
Keeper candidate.
The photograph had been removed.
Beneath it was a recent medical record.
The patient’s blood type, scars, and fingerprints matched Elena.
The date of admission was six months after Elena’s staged death.
The discharge date was two years later.
Elena stared at Daniel.
“You knew.”
Daniel did not deny it.
“You found me at this clinic,” she said.
“Yes.”
“How many of me were there?”
May you like
Daniel looked toward the empty chamber.
“Two.”
