Chapter 4 - The Woman Wearing Clara's Face
The security footage lasted forty-one seconds.
A woman identical to Clara entered the interview corridor using Chief Warren's override code. She wore Clara's dark coat, carried herself with the same controlled posture, and looked directly into the ceiling camera before opening Sienna's door. Sienna stepped out without surprise. The two women walked through a restricted exit and disappeared into a service alley.
The timestamp placed the event while Clara was beneath the greenhouse.
Morales replayed the image on the station monitor. “Deepfake?”
“Not in live physical footage from four cameras,” Clara said.
Warren enlarged the woman's left hand. “No scar.”
Clara looked at her own palm, where a white line crossed the base of her thumb from a training accident. The woman had copied her face, hair, height, and manner, but not the scar.
“Twin?” Morales asked.
Nobody answered.
Evelyn began screaming when shown a still image. “That is Clara. Stop trying to confuse me.”
Victor remained silent.
Clara entered his interview room alone.
Her father sat behind a metal table with his expensive coat folded over the chair. Without the mansion, the lawyer, or Sienna's camera, he looked older. Yet his eyes were still sharp.
“Who left the clinic with Mother?” Clara asked.
“You and your sister.”
“Which sister?”
Victor's jaw tightened.
Clara placed the old photograph between them.
For five seconds, he did not breathe.
Then he laughed softly. “Your grandmother enjoyed creating ghosts.”
“The woman who released Sienna has my face.”
“Then perhaps your classified friends are less loyal than you believed.”
“She has no scar.”
His gaze dropped to Clara's hand before he could stop himself.
That was enough.
Clara leaned forward. “There were three girls.”
Victor said nothing.
“Sienna, me, and the child taken away from the clinic.”
“You are guessing.”
“Your security chief knew her. Grandmother called me Subject C. The alphabet does not begin with C.”
Victor's expression finally cracked.
Clara felt no triumph. Only a cold pressure behind her ribs.
“Tell me her name.”
“She does not have one you would recognize.”
“Tell me.”
Victor looked toward the one-way glass. “Your mother was told one baby died. Margaret knew that was false. She spent years searching.”
“Who took her?”
“Northstar Meridian.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother made an agreement and then tried to break it.”
Clara waited.
Victor rubbed both hands across his face. “Northstar was not originally a company. It was a network built during the final years of the Cold War. They identified children with unusual cognitive profiles, trained them, placed them near institutions of power. Margaret worked with them. Later, she decided the program had become something monstrous.”
“And you?”
“I tried to protect this family.”
“You paid Northstar twelve million dollars.”
“I paid to keep them away.”
“From whom?”
His eyes met hers. “From Sienna.”
Clara almost laughed. “You framed me and had me arrested to protect Sienna?”
“The money in the trust was the final payment. When you froze the transfer, Northstar contacted her directly.”
“What did they tell her?”
“That she was the real heir. That Margaret chose you because you were useful. That everything Sienna hated about her childhood was designed to favor you.”
“Was it?”
Victor looked away.
The silence answered.
Clara's earpiece clicked. Warren spoke from the observation room. “We found the vehicle used in the escape. Abandoned near the river. Blood in the back seat.”
Clara stood.
Victor grabbed her wrist. “Do not follow her.”
She looked at his hand until he released her.
“You are afraid I will find Sienna?”
“No.” He lowered his voice. “I am afraid you will find the third girl.”
The abandoned vehicle contained Sienna's phone, a broken syringe, and one black button from a military-style coat. A traffic camera had captured the vehicle entering an old freight district, but not leaving.
At the river warehouse indicated by the camera, Clara and Warren found a chair bolted to the floor. Fresh restraints hung from its arms. A large mirror covered one wall.
Behind the mirror was an observation room.
On the desk sat a childhood photograph of Clara and Sienna at age eight. Someone had cut Clara from the picture and replaced her with a handwritten name.
Mara.
A speaker mounted in the ceiling activated.
The woman's voice was Clara's voice, but colder.
“Hello, sister.”
Clara looked up.
The voice continued.
“Sienna thinks I rescued her. Your father thinks Northstar controls me. Chief Warren thinks this is still an investigation.”
A red light appeared above the mirror.
“They are all wrong.”
May you like
The warehouse doors locked.
“And now I need to know whether Grandmother trained the right one.”
