Chapter 29 - ISABELLA REMEMBERED GIVING BIRTH TO ONE BABY—THEN A HIDDEN DELIVERY VIDEO SHOWED SOMEONE CARRYING OUT A SECOND INFANTIsabella dropped the photograph.
Sofia caught it before it reached the floor.
The image was grainy.
Hospital room.
Isabella unconscious.
A nurse beside the bed.
One infant in a bassinet.
And in the background, another woman carrying something wrapped in a blanket.
Daniel enlarged the image.
A tiny hand protruded from the fabric.
Victoria stared.
“Another baby.”
Sofia looked at Isabella.
“You don't remember?”
“No.”
“Twins?”
“No.”
Isabella’s voice broke.
“I had ultrasounds. There was one baby.”
Marcus studied the date.
“The photograph was taken three hours after Sofia's birth.”
Rachel explained that Helena had preserved hospital surveillance copied from Eden.
They found a videotape corresponding to the date.
Marcus converted it.
The screen flickered.
Isabella was wheeled into recovery.
A nurse carried newborn Sofia.
Then a second medical team entered through another corridor.
Another infant.
Already born.
Not Sofia’s twin.
Victoria.
They placed both girls in the same nursery.
Sofia understood.
“They wanted it to look like two babies came from Isabella.”
Marcus nodded.
“Probably to move Victoria without creating another hospital record.”
Victoria stared at the screen.
“So who gave birth to me?”
The video continued.
A woman appeared.
Weak.
Bleeding.
Her face remained hidden behind an oxygen mask.
Margaret gasped.
Sofia turned.
“You know her.”
Margaret whispered:
“No.”
“You reacted.”
“I know the necklace.”
The woman wore a silver rose pendant.
The same pendant Helena and Margaret possessed.
Rachel stared.
“Helena.”
Margaret shook her head.
“My sister?”
The woman turned slightly.
Her face became visible.
Margaret began sobbing.
It was Helena.
Victoria’s gestational carrier.
Helena had carried the Eden prototype.
But the genetics belonged to Eleanor and Elias.
Sofia and Victoria were biological sisters created years apart using the same genetic sources, but carried by different women.
Victoria sat down.
“This is insane.”
Sofia sat beside her.
“Yes.”
Victoria looked at her.
“You're handling this disturbingly well.”
“I've had practice.”
Victoria laughed through tears.
Then she became serious.
“My entire childhood Catherine told me Hawthornes were our enemies.”
Sofia nodded.
“She raised you to marry Daniel.”
“And Daniel is Eleanor’s son.”
“Yes.”
Victoria stared.
“She raised me to marry my biological half-brother.”
Silence.
Daniel looked physically ill.
“Fortunately we didn't.”
Victoria glared.
“Thank you, Daniel. Helpful.”
“I panicked.”
Sofia almost laughed.
Then Victoria’s expression broke.
“Did Catherine know?”
Nobody answered.
That question mattered.
They contacted Catherine through federal custody.
She agreed to speak.
When Victoria asked, Catherine remained silent for several seconds.
“Yes.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Daniel and I shared Eleanor.”
“Yes.”
“And you still pushed me toward him?”
Catherine cried.
“I believed the records saying Daniel wasn't Eleanor's biological son.”
Daniel frowned.
“But I am.”
“I know that now.”
Victoria stared.
“So you didn't knowingly push siblings together.”
“No.”
“That doesn't make what you did okay.”
“I know.”
Catherine explained she had been told Victoria was an Eden prototype created from anonymous sources.
Only Helena knew the complete truth.
Sofia asked:
“Who stole the bat?”
Catherine laughed sadly.
“I've been incarcerated for months.”
“Not you. Who would want it?”
Catherine became quiet.
“The bat contains another key.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
Sofia rubbed her forehead.
“Where?”
“Inside the barrel.”
They had already found one key in the handle.
Another was hidden beneath the weighted end cap.
“What does it open?”
Catherine whispered:
“The Garden.”
Margaret’s childhood program.
The original site.
Not Hawthorne Villa.
A facility beneath an abandoned children’s hospital forty miles away.
Federal investigators secured it.
Sofia insisted on going.
Daniel objected for approximately seven seconds before realizing that was pointless.
Victoria came too.
So did Margaret.
The underground facility was older than Meridian.
Pastel walls.
Child-sized beds.
Observation windows.
Drawings still taped to doors.
Margaret began shaking.
“I remember this.”
Sofia touched her shoulder.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.”
“You don't have to prove anything.”
Margaret looked at her.
“I know.”
Then she continued.
That was choice.
Not pressure.
At the end of the corridor they found a room marked GARDEN A.
Inside stood two cribs.
Margaret stared.
“I was five.”
Daniel frowned.
“Cribs?”
“These weren't for Margaret.”
Sofia found dates.
Years later.
Eleanor’s pregnancy.
Daniel.
Then another name.
HELENA — CARRIER V-2.
Victoria.
The program had reused the facility for decades.
Marcus found archived recordings.
One showed Helena confronting Arthur Bell.
“You promised the child would be released.”
Arthur answered:
“She belongs to Eden.”
“No child belongs to Eden.”
“She is property of the study.”
Helena slapped him.
Sofia smiled faintly.
“Apparently slapping terrible people runs in the family.”
Victoria looked at her.
“Don't start.”
The recording continued.
Helena threatened to expose everything.
Arthur threatened Margaret.
Helena stopped.
That was how they controlled her.
Family.
Always family.
Then another figure entered.
Charles Hawthorne.
Daniel stiffened.
Charles told Arthur:
“Release the child.”
Arthur refused.
Charles pointed toward Helena.
“Give her the baby.”
Victoria stared.
Charles Hawthorne had helped Helena escape with her.
Daniel whispered:
“My father saved Victoria.”
Sofia nodded.
“Apparently.”
Charles gave Helena documents.
Money.
A new identity.
Then Helena asked:
“What about Sofia?”
Charles answered:
“Isabella will raise her.”
Helena looked terrified.
“Arthur will come for her.”
Charles shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn't know which girl carries the trait.”
Sofia froze.
“What trait?”
The recording ended.
Victoria stared.
“There it is.”
They searched the room.
A medical file.
V-1: SOFIA.
V-2: VICTORIA.
TARGET PHENOTYPE: RESISTANCE RESPONSE.
Sofia laughed bitterly.
“They were trying to identify why people refuse control.”
Daniel looked at the charts.
“They thought it was genetic.”
“Idiots.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Not entirely. Temperament has biological components.”
Sofia looked at him.
“But choice isn't a gene.”
“No.”
That distinction mattered.
Then Margaret found a third file.
V-3.
Everyone stopped.
Another girl.
Same genetic parents.
Eleanor.
Elias.
Carrier unknown.
Outcome:
LIVE BIRTH.
Sofia stared.
“Another sister.”
Victoria groaned.
“Please tell me she's normal.”
Sofia looked at her.
“Look at us.”
“Fair.”
The birth date was four years after Sofia.
Name erased.
Current identity unknown.
But there was a photograph.
A little girl.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A small scar above her left eyebrow.
Sofia stared.
She knew that scar.
She had seen it recently.
Daniel noticed her expression.
“What?”
Sofia whispered:
“No.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“Who?”
Sofia looked toward the doorway.
A young woman stood there.
Claire.
The Blackwood survivor.
The girl Sofia had spent months protecting.
Claire stared at the photograph.
Then at Sofia.
“What?”
Sofia held it up.
Claire’s face changed.
The scar.
The eyes.
The age.
Victoria whispered:
“Oh my God.”
Claire stepped backward.
“No.”
Sofia approached slowly.
“Claire.”
“Don't.”
“We need a test.”
“No!”
She ran.
Sofia followed.
They reached the upper corridor.
Claire stopped.
Turned.
Tears covered her face.
“You don't understand.”
Sofia froze.
“What?”
Claire reached into her coat.
Not a weapon.
A photograph.
Three girls.
Sofia.
Victoria.
Claire.
All as children.
Standing in the same garden.
Sofia stared.
“I don't remember this.”
Claire cried.
“Neither did I.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From Arthur.”
Sofia’s blood went cold.
“When?”
Claire whispered:
“Yesterday.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Arthur is in prison.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
Sofia stared.
“What?”
Claire’s voice trembled.
“The man in prison isn't Arthur Bell.”
Silence.
Sofia felt the floor disappear beneath the story again.
“Then who is he?”
Claire looked toward Margaret.
May you like
“The same man she buried sixty years ago.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
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