Jason kept staring at the photograph as though looking long enough might change it. Our mother was smiling in the picture, younger than either of us remembered her, holding a newborn against her chest. The baby's face was turned away. Only the curve of a tiny shoulder and the strange marking between the shoulder blades could be seen clearly. Beneath the photograph, our father's handwriting remained unmistakable: One survived. The other was taken. Jason finally whispered, “Taken by whom?”
The stranger did not answer immediately. He stood beside the fireplace with one hand resting on the open cabinet, watching us with the exhausted expression of someone who had carried a secret for too many years. Emily was still holding our newborn. She looked from the photograph to the child in her arms, then back again. “You said this was Subject 13,” she said. “So who was the other baby?”
“Our records called her Subject 12,” he replied.
I felt my stomach tighten. “But Subject 12 was our mother.”
“No,” he said. “Your mother was the source material for the program. The subject numbers were assigned to the embryos.”
Jason shook his head. “Then the photograph is wrong.”
“It isn't.”
“You said Subject 13 was preserved.”
“Yes.”
“And this picture shows a newborn.”
“Yes.”
Jason's voice became sharper. “Then there are two babies.”
The stranger nodded.
“There were.”
I looked again at our mother's face. There was something in her expression I had never noticed in childhood photographs. It wasn't simply happiness. She looked frightened. Her smile seemed forced, and one hand was gripping the blanket around the baby far more tightly than necessary.
“When was this taken?” I asked.
The stranger gave me the date.
It was three days before the official record of our birth.
I looked at Jason.
He was doing the same calculation.
“That can't be right,” he said.
“It is.”
“Our birth certificates say we were born three days later.”
“They do.”
“Then why would Mom have a newborn before us?”
The stranger's silence answered before his words did.
I walked toward the cabinet and began opening folders. There were hospital forms, laboratory reports, handwritten notes, photographs, and pages of information arranged according to dates. One folder contained our names. Another contained only numbers.
I found the first page of our official birth record.
Then I found something else.
A second birth record.
Same hospital.
Same date.
Same mother.
Different child.
The name was blacked out.
Jason took it from my hands.
“What is this?”
“A record your father removed from the public file.”
“Why?”
“Because the child wasn't supposed to exist outside the program.”
Emily stepped closer.
“Was she alive?”
The stranger looked at the baby in her arms.
“Yes.”
“Then what happened to her?”
He looked toward the floor.
“She disappeared.”
Jason slammed the folder onto the table.
“You keep saying things like that. People don't just disappear.”
“This one did.”
“Who took her?”
“I don't know.”
Jason stared at him.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You were working with them.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know.”
The stranger closed his eyes.
“I know who had access to her.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
The room became silent.
My first reaction was denial.
Our father had been complicated. He had lied. He had hidden records. He had allowed secrets to grow around our family until they became part of the walls.
But kidnapping his own child seemed impossible.
“He wouldn't have done that,” I said.
The stranger looked at me sadly.
“He believed he was saving you.”
“Saving me from what?”
“From the people who wanted to study you.”
Jason laughed bitterly.
“So he gave them the other baby?”
“No.”
The stranger pointed to the photograph.
“He tried to protect both.”
I looked at the picture again.
“Then where is she?”
“I don't know.”
The baby in Emily's arms stirred.
Her tiny face tightened, and she made a soft sound before settling again.
Jason reached toward her, then stopped.
I saw the hesitation.
He was looking at the mark.
“Why does she have the same identifier?”
“Because she is connected to the same genetic sequence.”
“But if Subject 12 was taken, how did this baby get the mark?”
The stranger's expression changed.
“Because the mark isn't only an identifier.”
“What is it?”
“A key.”
I stared at him.
“To what?”
He opened another folder.
Inside was a diagram showing a series of genetic sequences and three symbols arranged in a circle.
“The researchers believed certain genetic patterns could be used to predict how a person's body would respond to specific treatments. Your mother's cells produced a rare combination. They wanted to reproduce it.”
“And the children?”
“They were proof that the process could work.”
Jason looked at the diagram.
“So they created us.”
“Yes.”
“And our mother carried us?”
“She carried the final embryos.”
I felt a chill run through me.
“And the baby I carried?”
“The same program.”
“Then why did they wait decades?”
The stranger looked at me.
“They didn't.”
A sudden sound came from outside.
Gravel shifted beneath tires.
Everyone froze.
Jason moved toward the window.
A vehicle had stopped near the gate.
The stranger immediately closed the cabinet.
“Lights off.”
Emily pulled the baby closer.
I stood beside Jason.
“How many?”
“One car.”
“Do they know we're here?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He looked at the files.
“Because your father left something behind.”
Jason's face tightened.
“What?”
The stranger pointed toward the cabinet.
“A tracking device.”
He reached behind the shelf and removed a small black object.
Jason stared at it.
“You brought us here knowing it could be tracked?”
“No.”
“Then who planted it?”
The stranger looked toward the door.
“Your father.”
Footsteps sounded outside.
Slow.
Then another set.
Jason whispered, “Why would Dad lead them here?”
The stranger's expression was grim.
“He didn't.”
He held up the device.
“This isn't a tracker.”
“What is it?”
“A signal.”
The footsteps stopped.
The stranger looked at the baby.
“They're not here for you.”
His gaze shifted toward the old photograph.
“They're here because someone wants to know whether Subject 12 is alive.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: The House Became a Trap When the Stranger Explained Why Someone Was Searching for Subject 12, and My Own Name Appeared in a File
My Twin Brother Had Waited Years for This Child, Yet the First Thing He Saw After Her Birth Made Him Step Away
Part 5 of 20
