Chapter 11 - The Girl Behind the Glass
Holloway’s grip loosened.
Only slightly.
But Mia felt it.
She drove her elbow into his ribs and dropped to the floor.
Bell fired.
The bullet struck Holloway’s shoulder.
He collapsed against the surgical table.
Officers surrounded him.
Dr. Vale ran toward the observation chamber.
Valeria pushed herself upright.
“Stop her!”
Evelyn tackled Vale before she reached the door.
The refrigerated container slid across the floor.
One of the vials shattered.
Clear liquid spread over the tiles.
The girl behind the glass did not move.
She stood barefoot in a white hospital gown.
Her dark hair fell to her shoulders.
A scar ran from beneath her left ear toward her collarbone.
She had no crescent-shaped birthmark.
Instead, a complete circle had been tattooed below her jaw.
Valeria approached the glass.
The girl mirrored her movement.
“Who are you?” Valeria asked.
The girl’s lips moved.
No sound carried through the window.
Bell ordered an officer to open the chamber.
The electronic lock required a code.
Dr. Vale laughed from the floor.
“You cannot release her.”
“Give me the code,” Bell said.
“She does not survive outside controlled conditions.”
Valeria turned toward her.
“That’s what you said about all of us.”
“You are not the same.”
“Is she Eight?”
Vale smiled.
“No.”
The lights flickered.
A warning tone began inside the chamber.
Red letters appeared on the control panel.
OXYGEN REDUCTION INITIATED.
Bell grabbed Vale by the coat.
“Code.”
She remained silent.
Holloway, bleeding on the floor, laughed weakly.
“She will let the girl die before surrendering the work.”
Valeria studied the keypad.
Nine buttons.
Zero through eight.
The rhyme.
One for the source.
Two for the blood.
Three for the silence.
Four for the flood.
Five for the mother.
Six for the son.
Seven remembers.
Eight becomes one.
She entered 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8.
Denied.
The oxygen level dropped.
Mia joined her.
“Maybe zero comes first.”
Valeria entered 0-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8.
Denied.
The girl behind the glass pressed her hand against the window.
Her knees began to weaken.
Teresa shouted at Vale.
“You named the children by order of viability.”
Vale looked away.
Valeria understood.
“The sequence isn’t numerical.”
“What is it?” Mia asked.
“Birth order.”
“We don’t know the birth order.”
The girl behind the glass pointed toward Valeria.
Then Mia.
Then herself.
Seven.
Six.
Zero?
Valeria entered 7-6-0.
The warning tone stopped.
The chamber door opened.
Cold air rushed out.
The girl collapsed into Valeria’s arms.
She was frighteningly light.
Her skin felt cold.
She opened her eyes and whispered one word.
“Violet.”
Valeria’s original name.
“You know me?”
The girl touched Valeria’s face.
“You left me.”
Valeria shook her head.
“I don’t remember you.”
“You promised.”
“When?”
“At the first house.”
Valeria saw a flash of memory.
Two little girls beneath a table.
One crying.
The other holding her hand.
A red-haired doctor approaching.
A child named Violet saying, “I’ll come back.”
Valeria’s throat closed.
“Are you Zero?”
The girl smiled faintly.
“Zero is not a girl.”
Before Valeria could ask more, the girl lost consciousness.
Paramedics moved into the chamber.
They placed her on a stretcher.
One of them checked her pulse.
“She needs immediate transport.”
Bell ordered officers to secure all records and equipment.
Holloway and Vale were taken into custody.
Teresa was freed.
Mia held her mother but did not forgive her.
Not yet.
As police moved through Saint Orison, a fire began in the upper floor.
The tactical team had not started it.
Investigators later found timed incendiary devices hidden throughout the building.
The children’s home burned for the second time.
Most of the basement evidence was removed before the ceiling collapsed.
Not all of it.
The observation chamber disappeared beneath stone and flame.
The rescued girl was transported to St. Catherine’s under armed guard.
During the drive, she woke long enough to ask for Valeria.
When Valeria reached the hospital several hours later, the room was empty.
The restraints had been cut.
The window was open.
A nurse lay unconscious near the door.
May you like
On the pillow was a message written in blood.
DO NOT TRUST THE GIRL WHO CALLS HERSELF SIX.
