Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE ELEVATOR
Sarah watched the numbers descend above the elevator doors.
Forty-two.
Thirty-eight.
Thirty-one.
Beside her, Daniel Cross kept his attention on the encrypted messages arriving on his phone.
Daniel had once worked for the State Department. He now described himself as a security consultant, although Sarah knew that title covered a long list of activities most ordinary consultants never performed.
He had entered her life twelve days earlier.
Not by knocking on her door.
By pulling Noah away from a speeding black sedan outside his school.
The sedan had not slowed.
The driver had not been found.
That same night, Sarah received a photograph of Lily sleeping in her bedroom.
It had been taken from inside the house.
Beneath the photograph were six words.
RETURN WHAT YOUR FATHER STOLE.
Sarah had called the police.
Then she called the private number her father had made her memorize when she was nine years old.
The number had remained disconnected for twenty-four years.
This time, Daniel answered.
The elevator reached the underground garage.
“Reyes has them contained,” Daniel said.
“Vanessa too?”
“Yes.”
“Is she stable?”
“The hospital says she is.”
Sarah closed her eyes briefly.
She hated Vanessa.
At least, she wanted to hate her.
Vanessa had entered Bradley’s life as a public-relations consultant and become his lover while Sarah was still sleeping beside him. She had smiled at Sarah during charity events, complimented her dress, and exchanged messages with Bradley under the table.
But the image of Vanessa on the examination bed left no room for simple hatred.
She was carrying something that had been stolen from Sarah before Sarah was old enough to understand what had been taken.
The elevator doors opened.
A black SUV waited with the engine running.
Daniel scanned the garage before allowing Sarah to step out.
“Where are Noah and Lily?” she asked.
“Still at the safe residence.”
“I want to speak to them.”
“When we confirm the route is clean.”
“They’re my children.”
“That is exactly why you cannot call from an unsecured location.”
Sarah stopped beside the vehicle.
“You said the passports would trigger the trace.”
“They did.”
“And the transfer records?”
“Reyes has them.”
“What about the second embryo?”
Daniel’s expression tightened.
“We haven’t found it.”
Sarah looked at him.
“There were two?”
“The original Marrow ledger identified a paired set.”
“And only one was implanted in Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is the other one?”
Daniel opened the vehicle door.
“That is what we need to find before Margaret does.”
Sarah did not move.
A cold pressure formed behind her ribs.
Margaret had spent years trying to control every part of Bradley’s life. His education. His friendships. His business partners. His marriage.
Sarah had believed Margaret hated her because she considered Sarah socially inferior.
Now she understood there had been another reason.
Margaret had recognized her.
Not as Sarah Cole.
As Sarah Marrow.
The girl from the underground laboratory.
The girl who survived.
“Daniel,” Sarah said, “why did my father create those embryos?”
He looked toward the far end of the garage.
A white delivery van had entered through the security gate.
The driver wore a hospital uniform.
Daniel’s hand moved beneath his jacket.
“Get inside.”
Sarah saw his expression and obeyed.
The van accelerated.
It crossed two lanes and headed directly toward them.
Daniel slammed the SUV door and drew his weapon.
The van swerved at the last moment, striking a concrete support column.
Its side door flew open.
A masked man jumped out holding a compact rifle.
Daniel fired first.
The man ducked behind the van and returned fire.
The SUV’s rear window shattered.
Sarah dropped to the floor.
Daniel moved behind the engine block and fired twice more.
The masked man disappeared through a maintenance door.
Silence returned as quickly as the violence had begun.
Daniel waited several seconds before approaching the van.
The driver’s seat was empty.
The vehicle had been steered remotely.
Inside the cargo area, he found no weapons, no documents, and no second attacker.
Only a plastic hospital bassinet.
Sarah stepped closer despite Daniel ordering her to stay back.
Something rested inside the bassinet.
A blue infant blanket.
The fabric was old and faded.
In one corner, the name SARAH had been stitched in white thread.
Sarah stopped breathing.
She remembered the blanket.
Bright lights.
White walls.
A woman screaming behind glass.
Her father’s voice telling her not to look.
Daniel lifted the blanket carefully.
Beneath it was a recent photograph of Noah and Lily standing outside their safe residence.
May you like
Written across the photograph in red ink were four words.
THEY WERE NEVER YOURS.
