Chapter 8: The First Experiment
The darkness lasted only three seconds.
But in those three seconds, I heard a door slam.
Then Lily screamed.
“Mom!””
I reached for her.
My hand closed around empty air.
“Lily!””
Emergency lights flickered on.
She was gone.
Victor lunged toward the doorway.
Jonathan stood there.
Alone.
“You took her.””
Jonathan looked almost offended.
“No.””
“Where is she?””
“I told you.””
He pointed toward the opposite wall.
A hidden door stood open.
I ran.
Victor grabbed my shoulder.
“Wait.””
I spun on him.
“That's my daughter!””
“And that's exactly what they want.””
Jonathan's voice cut through the room.
“He's right.””
I turned.
Jonathan was watching me.
“You think Meridian wants Lily?””
“Doesn't it?””
“No.””
“Then who?””
Jonathan looked at the journal.
“Your father.””
I laughed.
“My father is dead.””
Jonathan shook his head.
“Thomas is dead.””
“Then who is taking her?””
Jonathan's eyes hardened.
“Someone much worse.””
A monitor suddenly came alive.
Helena appeared on the screen.
She looked calm.
Too calm.
“Jonathan,” she said.
“Helena.””
“You've interfered enough.””
Jonathan smiled.
“You're afraid.””
“I don't fear you.””
“No.””
He glanced at me.
“You fear her.””
Helena looked directly at me.
“Evelyn, listen carefully.””
I stepped closer to the screen.
“Where is Lily?””
“Safe.””
“Bring her back.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because she has already accessed the final memory.””
My stomach tightened.
“What memory?””
Helena's expression changed.
“The memory you erased.””
I looked at Jonathan.
He knew.
“You know what she's talking about.””
“Yes.””
“Tell me.””
He shook his head.
“Not here.””
“Then where?””
Jonathan pointed toward the journal.
“Keep reading.””
I looked down.
The next page had been folded.
I opened it.
A paragraph appeared.
*If Lily ever reaches the final memory, she will remember what happened in Room 7.*
Below it:
*Room 7 is where Jonathan began.*
I looked at him.
“What happened in Room 7?””
His jaw tightened.
“I was eight years old.””
I said nothing.
“My father believed memory could be inherited.””
Jonathan walked slowly toward me.
“He experimented on me first.””
“Thomas?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because he was obsessed with proving that memory wasn't stored only in the brain.””
I felt sick.
“He believed it could exist in the body.””
Jonathan nodded.
“He was right.””
He touched his chest.
“Every cell remembers.””
Victor whispered, “Jonathan…”
Jonathan continued.
“Thomas created a process that could extract memory patterns from one person and imprint them onto another.””
I stared at him.
“That's impossible.””
“Your daughter is proof.””
I looked at Lily's empty chair.
“What did she inherit?””
“Your memory architecture.””
I frowned.
“Meaning?””
“She doesn't simply remember your memories.””
Jonathan's eyes met mine.
“She can unlock memories you consciously buried.””
The room went silent.
“That's why they wanted her.””
Jonathan pointed toward me.
“And that's why they wanted you alive.””
I remembered the recording.
If you're hearing this, it means Margaret has finally betrayed me.
I looked at Margaret.
“Why did I write that?””
Margaret was crying.
“Because you asked me to.””
“Why?””
“You knew you were going to forget.””
Jonathan shook his head.
“You didn't forget naturally.””
My blood ran cold.
“You erased yourself.””
“Yes.””
“But why?””
Jonathan looked toward the screen.
“Because you discovered the truth about Thomas.””
Helena's face remained expressionless.
I turned to her.
“What truth?””
She didn't answer.
Jonathan did.
“Thomas wasn't the mastermind.””
I stared at him.
“He was the first victim.””
My heart stopped.
“Victim of who?””
Jonathan looked at the ceiling.
“Your mother.””
I couldn't speak.
“My mother?””
Jonathan nodded.
“Her name was Clara.””
I searched my memory.
Nothing.
“My mother died when I was six.””
Jonathan's expression was grim.
“She didn't die.””
I shook my head.
“I went to her funeral.””
“A body was buried.””
“That doesn't mean—”
“It wasn't her.””
The room spun.
Jonathan reached into his coat and pulled out an old photograph.
He handed it to me.
It showed my mother.
Standing beside a laboratory door.
She looked younger than I remembered.
Beside her stood Thomas.
And between them was Jonathan.
A little boy.
I turned the photograph over.
On the back was a handwritten note.
*PROJECT MOTHER — SUBJECT 001.*
My fingers went numb.
“What does this mean?””
Jonathan's voice dropped.
“Your mother was the first person to successfully transfer memory.””
“Into who?””
“Me.””
I stared at him.
“That's why I remember things from before I was born.””
My mouth went dry.
“What things?””
“My mother's childhood.””
He pointed toward the photograph.
“Your mother's childhood.””
I looked at him.
“You have her memories?””
“Yes.””
“And Thomas?””
“Thomas tried to destroy them.””
“Why?””
“Because Clara remembered what he had done.””
I looked at the journal.
My handwriting suddenly made sense.
The final memory.
Room 7.
My mother.
Thomas.
Jonathan.
And me.
A violent headache hit me.
I dropped the journal.
Images flashed.
A little girl.
Me.
Standing outside Room 7.
Holding Lily.
Helena screaming.
Thomas bleeding.
Jonathan kneeling on the floor.
And my mother standing behind them all.
Alive.
I heard her voice.
Evelyn, don't let them take her.
I collapsed against the table.
Victor caught me.
“What did you see?””
I stared at him.
“My mother.””
Jonathan went pale.
“You remembered her?””
“She was there.””
“That's impossible.””
“No.””
I looked toward the screen.
“Helena knew.””
Helena finally spoke.
“She always knew.””
“Where is my mother?””
Helena's expression became almost sad.
“Closer than you think.””
The screen went black.
Then the archive door slammed shut.
A lock engaged.
Victor rushed toward it.
“It's sealed.””
Jonathan looked at the ceiling.
“They found us.””
I heard footsteps outside.
Dozens of them.
Then a familiar voice spoke through the door.
My father's voice.
Calm.
Patient.
“Evelyn.””
I froze.
“Open the door.””
Jonathan stepped backward.
Victor whispered, “That's not Thomas.””
I looked at him.
“Then who is it?””
The voice answered before he could.
May you like
“Your father.””
The door handle began turning.
