Chapter 14 - THE LAST TEST
The boat cut across Lake Mercer.
Fog swallowed the shoreline behind us.
Harris kept one hand on the console and the other near his weapon.
A faint engine sound came from ahead.
Then disappeared.
“They killed their lights.”
He said.
I watched the water.
“Patricia wants us to follow.”
“How do you know?”
“She could have left before we arrived.”
The lake opened into a narrow channel between two wooded banks.
A dock appeared through the fog.
The blue-and-white boat was tied there.
No one was inside.
Harris stepped onto the dock first.
A stone building stood beyond the trees.
It looked like an abandoned lodge.
The front door was open.
Inside, children’s drawings covered the walls.
Smiling families.
Bright houses.
Stick figures holding hands.
Every picture had a number instead of a name.
Harris photographed everything as we moved.
A voice came from a speaker overhead.
“Sarah.”
Patricia.
I looked toward the ceiling.
“Where is Emma?”
“You were always more resilient than expected.”
“This is not a test.”
“It has always been a test.”
A steel door closed behind us.
Harris turned.
Locked.
Patricia continued.
“Gerald believed attachment could be manufactured.”
“You helped him abuse children.”
“We measured outcomes.”
“You starved them.”
“We observed separation anxiety.”
“You locked them in dark rooms.”
“We tested recovery.”
Harris searched the walls for the speaker system.
“Keep her talking.”
He whispered.
I looked toward a camera above the hall.
“Why Emma?”
“Because she produced the strongest attachment score.”
“To me?”
“Yes.”
A door opened at the end of the corridor.
I moved toward it.
Harris stayed close.
The room beyond was circular.
Observation glass surrounded a single chair.
Emma sat in it.
Her wrists were tied loosely with soft fabric.
Dr. Levin stood beside her.
Patricia watched from behind the glass.
She held a handgun.
“Mommy.”
Emma said.
“I’m here.”
I stepped into the room.
Dr. Levin raised a syringe.
“Stay where you are.”
Harris aimed his weapon.
“Put it down.”
Patricia pressed the gun against the glass.
“If he drops it, I shoot the child.”
Harris froze.
I looked at Emma.
She was pale but awake.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
Dr. Levin checked a monitor beside the chair.
Patricia spoke through the intercom.
“This is the final attachment test.”
I looked toward the glass.
“You are insane.”
“Emma must choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Her biological mother or her conditioned mother.”
A second door opened.
Vanessa was wheeled inside by a man in medical scrubs.
Her injured arm was strapped to her chest.
Her face was bruised.
Two guards stood behind her.
She looked at Emma.
Then at me.
Patricia had removed her from federal custody.
Dr. Levin had helped.
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears.
“Emma.”
Emma leaned away.
Patricia’s voice came through the speaker.
“Call her by her real name.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Emily.”
Emma looked confused.
“My name is Emma.”
“That was the name they gave you.”
Vanessa said.
“I named you Emily.”
Emma looked at me.
“Mommy?”
I stepped closer.
“Your name is Emma because that is the name you know.”
Patricia laughed softly.
“Identity follows authority.”
“No.”
I said.
“Identity belongs to her.”
Vanessa looked toward the glass.
“You promised she would remember me.”
Patricia answered.
“Biological recognition was always theoretical.”
Vanessa’s grief turned to rage.
“You used me.”
“Yes.”
The single word broke something in her.
Vanessa turned toward Emma.
“I thought if you saw me, you would know.”
Emma began to cry.
“I don’t know you.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
I expected anger.
Instead, her shoulders collapsed.
“I know.”
Patricia pressed the gun harder against the glass.
“Make her choose.”
Vanessa opened her eyes.
She looked at me.
Then she looked at the syringe in Dr. Levin’s hand.
“What happens after she chooses?”
Patricia did not answer.
Vanessa understood.
“You are going to kill her.”
“Subjects cannot leave the final phase.”
Dr. Levin shifted uneasily.
“That was not our agreement.”
Patricia aimed the weapon toward him.
“You no longer have an agreement.”
Everything happened at once.
Vanessa shoved her wheelchair into Dr. Levin.
The syringe flew from his hand.
Harris fired at the control box beside the glass.
The lights exploded.
I ran to Emma.
Patricia fired.
The bullet struck the chair beside me.
Vanessa threw herself against the observation window.
“Run.”
She screamed.
Harris cut Emma’s restraints.
Dr. Levin reached for the syringe.
Emma kicked it beneath the chair.
I lifted her.
The guards entered through the side door.
Harris tackled one.
Vanessa grabbed the second guard’s ankle from the floor.
He fell.
Patricia fired again.
The bullet shattered the observation glass.
Vanessa looked at me through the broken opening.
“Take her.”
I held Emma tighter.
“Come with us.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“She is your daughter.”
Patricia raised the gun toward Emma.
Vanessa pushed herself between them.
The shot struck Vanessa in the back.
She fell against the glass.
Emma screamed.
Harris fired once.
Patricia’s weapon dropped from her hand.
She collapsed behind the console.
The room became silent except for the monitor alarm.
I lowered Emma into Harris’s arms and climbed through the broken glass.
Vanessa lay on the floor.
Blood spread beneath her.
I pressed both hands against the wound.
“Stay awake.”
She looked toward Emma.
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa’s breath trembled.
“I threw the pan.”
“I know.”
“I wanted her to hate you.”
“I know.”
“She kept calling for you.”
Her eyes filled.
“Even when I hurt her.”
I could not forgive her.
Not then.
Maybe never.
But I refused to let her die without the truth.
“She called for me because I protected her.”
Vanessa nodded weakly.
“You did what I should have done.”
Sirens sounded outside.
Harris had triggered an emergency signal.
Vanessa’s eyes closed.
I touched her face.
“Stay with me.”
She opened them once more.
“Tell her I was sorry.”
“You tell her yourself.”
A faint smile touched her lips.
Then she lost consciousness.
Paramedics reached us minutes later.
Patricia survived.
Dr. Levin was arrested.
Vanessa was taken into emergency surgery under guard.
As they carried her away, Emma watched from my arms.
“Is she my other mommy?”
I looked at her.
“She is the woman who gave birth to you.”
“Are you still my mommy?”
I held her against my heart.
“For as long as you want me to be.”
Emma wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Forever.”
Behind us, agents opened a locked records room.
Inside were files for sixty-three children.
The last file carried no subject number.
May you like
Only a name.
Michael Grant.
