Chapter 14 - The Child Before Her
Three weeks later, Sterling Memorial looked different.
Not physically.
The same polished floors.
The same glass atrium.
The same expensive artwork.
But the Sterling name had begun disappearing.
The board voted unanimously to remove Richard Sterling from all executive authority pending criminal proceedings.
Government investigators took control of two research divisions.
Families connected to Red Haven were contacted privately.
Mercer faced kidnapping, conspiracy, assault, unlawful human experimentation, medical fraud and a growing list of federal charges.
Richard accepted a cooperation agreement.
Not immunity.
Daniel insisted on that.
"If he wants redemption," Daniel told prosecutors, "he can try it from a courtroom."
Anna's daughter improved.
She gained weight.
Her lungs strengthened.
Doctors slowly reduced respiratory support.
Anna named her Grace Rebecca Monroe.
Grace for survival.
Rebecca for the grandmother who had tried to protect her before she was born.
Arthur visited every morning.
At first he told himself he was helping because Grace still responded strongly to his voice.
Then one morning Emily caught him reading a children's book beside the incubator.
"You know she can't understand that."
Arthur looked offended.
"It's about a bear."
"That doesn't answer me."
"The bear has poor judgment."
Emily laughed.
Arthur continued reading.
The trembling in his hands had become less severe around Grace.
Not gone.
But less.
Daniel noticed too.
"So you planning to move into the NICU?"
Arthur closed the book.
"I have a house."
"Your house has one chair."
"Two."
"One is broken."
"It's decorative."
Daniel smiled.
For a moment they were soldiers again.
Then Arthur remembered what Daniel had said after Mercer's arrest.
The child before Grace.
He had waited three weeks for Daniel to explain.
Daniel had avoided it.
That morning Arthur stopped allowing avoidance.
"Tell me."
Daniel's smile disappeared.
Arthur continued.
"Kandahar. You said you weren't talking about Grace."
Daniel sat.
Emily sensed the change and quietly walked away.
Daniel stared at the incubator.
"Sterling Seventeen wasn't the seventeenth subject."
Arthur waited.
"It was the seventeenth family."
Arthur frowned.
"What family?"
"Ours."
"Sterling?"
Daniel shook his head.
"Vance."
Arthur went still.
Daniel looked at him.
"My father's research included military families."
Arthur felt cold.
"I didn't have children."
"No."
"Then what are you saying?"
Daniel swallowed.
"Do you remember Laura?"
Arthur stood.
His chair scraped backward.
Laura.
His former wife.
A name he had not spoken in years.
They had married before his second deployment.
Divorced after his return.
The official reason had been that Arthur came home changed.
Nightmares.
Anger.
Silence.
But there had been another wound.
Laura had suffered a miscarriage while Arthur was overseas.
Seven months pregnant.
A daughter.
Arthur's voice barely worked.
"Don't."
Daniel's eyes filled.
"Arthur."
"Don't say another word unless you're absolutely certain."
Daniel reached into his coat.
He removed a sealed evidence envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A newborn infant.
Not Grace.
Older photograph.
Seventeen years old.
Arthur's knees weakened.
Daniel said, "Laura didn't miscarry."
Arthur stared.
"No."
"She was told the baby died."
"No."
"The infant was transferred."
Arthur's breathing became shallow.
"Where?"
"Red Haven."
He grabbed Daniel's shirt.
"Where is my daughter?"
Daniel did not resist.
"I don't know."
Arthur slammed him against the wall.
"You knew?"
"Not then."
"When?"
"Fragments came back four years ago."
"Four years?"
"I've been searching."
Arthur released him in horror.
"Four years."
"I found evidence she survived infancy."
Arthur's eyes were wild.
"Name."
"They called her Subject V-17."
"Name."
"Arthur, I don't know what name she has now."
He shoved the photograph into Daniel's chest.
"You let me stand beside that baby for three weeks knowing my own child might be alive."
"I needed proof."
"You needed courage."
Daniel absorbed the accusation.
"You're right."
Arthur turned away.
His eyes burned.
For seventeen years, he had mourned a friend who was alive.
Now he learned he had mourned a daughter who might also be alive.
The cruelty felt mathematically impossible.
Emily returned slowly.
She had heard enough.
Arthur looked at her.
"They took my daughter."
Emily's eyes filled.
"I'm sorry."
Arthur stared through the glass at Grace.
Tiny.
Safe.
Loved.
He had spent weeks believing saving her was the fulfillment of an old promise.
Instead Grace had led him toward another child.
His own.
Daniel placed a second document on the table.
Arthur almost refused to look.
Then he saw the date.
Three months earlier.
A pharmacy record.
Subject V-17 had used a Sterling research identification number to purchase anti-seizure medication in Oregon.
Arthur looked up sharply.
"Three months?"
May you like
Daniel nodded.
"She's alive."
