Chapter 5 - MY MOTHER'S CONFESSION
My mother was alive.
Barely.
She had been found sitting on the kitchen floor with a photograph in her lap.
The photograph was forty years old.
I knew it immediately.
It was the same hospital.
The same two women.
And a third person.
Daniel Carter.
My mother's hands shook as she looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
I sat beside her.
"For what?"
"For everything."
Detective Brooks stood nearby.
My mother stared at the floor.
"Your father wasn't your biological father."
I felt as though someone had struck me.
"Then who was?"
She started crying.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"There was a program."
"What program?"
She swallowed.
"Medical research."
The same phrase from Daniel's letter.
My mother explained that decades earlier, several families had been recruited for experimental fertility treatment.
The program was supposed to help couples who couldn't have children.
But something went wrong.
Records were changed.
Children were reassigned.
And some families were told never to ask questions.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because they threatened us."
"Who?"
She looked toward Detective Brooks.
"The Carters."
My blood ran cold.
"Michael knew?"
"Not at first."
"Then when?"
"When he found his father's files."
I remembered Michael changing after we married.
At first he had been charming.
Then possessive.
Then suspicious.
Then cruel.
My mother whispered:
"He wasn't interested in hurting you because he hated you."
I stared at her.
"Then why?"
"Because he was afraid of you."
"Afraid of what?"
She looked directly at me.
"Your blood."
The room went silent.
Detective Brooks stepped forward.
"What exactly does that mean?"
My mother shook her head.
"I don't know."
But she did.
I could see it.
She was hiding something.
"Mom."
She closed her eyes.
"When you were a baby, doctors discovered something unusual."
"What?"
"They said your blood reacted differently to certain compounds."
My mind immediately went to the ink.
The metallic grain.
The tracking device.
"That's why he tattooed me."
My mother began crying harder.
"I think so."
I stood.
"I need the truth."
She reached beneath her blanket.
Then she pulled out a small envelope.
"I kept this for twenty-one years."
Inside was a medical report.
My name.
My blood type.
And one sentence highlighted in red.
"SUBJECT SHOWS UNUSUAL BIOLOGICAL RESPONSE."
My hands shook.
Below it was a code.
C-17.
Michael had been looking for that code.
But there was another handwritten note.
"Never allow Carter Medical to obtain a fresh sample."
I looked at Detective Brooks.
"Why?"
Before she could answer, my mother's phone rang.
She answered.
Her face went white.
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Michael.
"Hello, Sarah."
I froze.
"How did you get her number?"
Michael laughed.
"You still don't understand."
His voice became quiet.
"The baby isn't the reason I need you."
A pause.
"It's the reason they need you."
May you like
Then the line went dead.
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