Chapter 6 - Choose One Daughter
Nobody spoke.
The words on the monitor remained fixed.
DAUGHTER A.
DAUGHTER B.
SELECT ONE FOR RELEASE.
The timer in the corner began counting backward.
09:59.
09:58.
09:57.
Thomas Parker stared into the camera from the glass room. His hands were secured to the arms of a steel chair, but it was not the restraints that caught my attention.
It was his face.
I had never seen my father look defeated.
Not when my mother died.
Not when he lost our first home.
Not even when doctors told him his heart surgery might fail.
This expression was different.
It was the look of a man who had carried the same secret for decades and had finally reached the point where it could no longer remain hidden.
“Dad,” I whispered to the screen.
His lips moved.
“I’m sorry.”
The connection cut for half a second before returning.
Silas Vale stepped into view.
“You have less than ten minutes.”
“What happens if we refuse?” Helen asked.
Vale smiled.
“I stop asking.”
He pressed another control.
The camera shifted to a different room.
Marcus remained tied to a metal chair. A heart monitor blinked beside him. He looked exhausted, but conscious.
Vale walked behind him.
“Your husband has already made his choice.”
My chest tightened.
Marcus lifted his head.
“No.”
Vale ignored him.
“He selected Daughter A.”
The little girl beside me instinctively moved closer.
Marcus struggled against the restraints.
“That isn't what I said!”
Vale placed a hand on Marcus's shoulder.
“You said, ‘Protect Olivia.’”
“I meant my wife.”
Vale tilted his head.
“That depends on which Olivia you meant.”
Marcus looked directly into the camera.
“I meant both of them.”
Vale chuckled.
“That answer has always been your weakness.”
The feed disappeared.
Silence filled the clinic.
The little girl looked up at me.
“Is he angry with me?”
I knelt in front of her.
“No.”
“Did I do something bad?”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“Then why does everyone keep choosing?”
I had no answer.
Helen walked toward the old medicine cabinet and opened the bottom drawer.
Inside rested three worn folders sealed inside waterproof sleeves.
She froze.
Evelyn noticed immediately.
“What is it?”
Helen slowly removed one folder.
Across the front, faded black letters read:
PROJECT ROSEWOOD
MATERNITY UNIT
She swallowed.
“I thought these were destroyed.”
Evelyn took another folder.
“This one has dates.”
“What dates?”
“Births.”
I stepped beside them.
The final folder was much thinner than the others.
A single name had been typed across the cover.
PARKER.
My hands began trembling.
Helen looked at me.
“If we open this, there is no forgetting what we learn.”
“I stopped believing in ordinary lives the moment Chloe pointed at your tattoo.”
She nodded.
I broke the seal.
Inside were photographs.
Hospital bracelets.
Footprints.
Birth records.
The first page showed my mother lying in a hospital bed.
The second showed Evelyn.
Both photographs carried the same date.
June 14, 1991.
Below them was a handwritten note.
EMBRYO DIVISION SUCCESSFUL.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
CARRIER A – HELEN.
CARRIER B – EVELYN.
I turned another page.
Two infant footprints.
Two identification bracelets.
INFANT A.
INFANT B.
No names.
Only letters.
My pulse quickened.
“There really were two babies.”
Helen closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“But who left the hospital with Dad?”
She didn't answer.
Instead, she pointed toward the final page.
There, attached with a rusted paperclip, was a handwritten statement signed by Thomas Parker.
I recognized his handwriting immediately.
If circumstances require immediate evacuation, only one infant may leave through the eastern exit.
I will return for the second child.
Signed,
Thomas Parker.
I stared at the page.
“No...”
My voice barely existed.
“No.”
Evelyn slowly lowered herself into a chair.
“He tried.”
Helen looked toward the monitor showing Thomas.
“He came back.”
I turned sharply.
“What?”
“He returned before sunrise.”
“For who?”
“For the baby that remained.”
“What happened?”
Helen's eyes filled with tears.
“He found an empty nursery.”
The little girl looked from one adult to another.
“Who's Thomas?”
I smiled sadly.
“My father.”
“Is he nice?”
“The best man I've ever known.”
She nodded thoughtfully.
“I hope he doesn't cry anymore.”
The timer reached seven minutes.
Suddenly, Owens coughed violently on the examination table.
Blood stained the bandages.
Helen hurried toward him.
“The bleeding restarted.”
Evelyn assisted without speaking.
I remained staring at Thomas's statement.
He had never abandoned anyone.
He had gone back.
Someone had taken the second baby first.
The monitor flickered again.
This time, the image showed Chloe.
She sat quietly inside a bright room, coloring with crayons.
My heart stopped.
“Chloe!”
She looked toward the camera.
“Mommy?”
She wasn't crying.
She wasn't tied down.
She looked completely calm.
Vale's voice returned.
“She is perfectly safe.”
“If you touch her—”
“She asked for chocolate milk.”
The camera widened.
An elderly woman placed a glass on the table.
Chloe smiled politely.
“She thinks she's visiting a hospital.”
My breathing became uneven.
“Where is she?”
“You know where.”
“No.”
“She has already arrived at Hawthorne.”
Helen stared at the screen.
“You moved faster than expected.”
Vale ignored her.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Children adapt remarkably well.”
“You kidnapped my daughter.”
“I relocated an important subject.”
“She isn't part of Rosewood.”
Vale looked amused.
“She is the most important part.”
The screen changed again.
A DNA report appeared.
Three names.
Olivia Parker.
Marcus Reed.
Chloe Parker.
Across the bottom, bold letters read:
GENETIC COMPATIBILITY: 99.98%
I frowned.
“That proves she's ours.”
Vale smiled.
“No.”
A second page appeared.
A fourth name.
Project Subject 31.
The compatibility remained exactly the same.
My skin went cold.
“What is Subject Thirty-One?”
Vale answered quietly.
“The original genetic source.”
Nobody in the room moved.
The little girl looked confused.
“What does that mean?”
Helen whispered only one word.
“No.”
Vale continued.
“Chloe is not merely your daughter.”
He paused deliberately.
“She is the only naturally conceived descendant of Subject Thirty-One.”
Marcus suddenly appeared again on another monitor.
His face was covered in blood.
He shouted with every ounce of strength he had.
“Olivia!”
Vale tried to silence him.
Marcus fought against the restraints.
“Don't let Chloe near the lower theater!”
Two guards forced him back into the chair.
Vale sighed.
“He never learns.”
The feed ended.
Owens slowly opened his eyes.
He looked toward me.
“The little girl...”
“Yes?”
“I've seen her before.”
Every head turned.
“Where?”
“At the county hospital.”
“When?”
“About... ten years ago.”
The room fell silent.
I looked at the child beside me.
“You're nine.”
She shook her head.
“I think so.”
Owens frowned.
“No.”
“I remember because my daughter was born that week.”
He struggled to sit upright.
“The same little girl was walking these halls.”
Evelyn slowly turned toward Helen.
“She hasn't been asleep continuously.”
Helen's expression darkened.
“No.”
Owens swallowed painfully.
“She never grew older.”
The words settled over us like ice.
The little girl looked at her own hands.
“Why don't I get bigger?”
Nobody answered.
The timer reached five minutes.
Suddenly, every monitor in the clinic switched to the same image.
An elevator.
Level Four.
The doors slid open.
A wheelchair rolled into view.
An elderly man sat inside.
Thin.
Pale.
His silver hair reached his shoulders.
A faded photograph rested across his lap.
When he slowly lifted his head, every person in the room stopped breathing.
He looked exactly like the face tattooed across Evelyn's stomach.
Daniel.
Alive.
Older.
But unmistakably Daniel.
He looked straight into the camera.
Then directly at me.
Not at Helen.
Not at Evelyn.
At me.
With surprising strength, he spoke only six words.
“You have your grandmother's eyes, Livvy.”
The monitor went black.
The timer continued counting down.
04:59.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I realized something even more terrifying than Rosewood itself.
May you like
Daniel knew me.
Long before I knew he existed.
