Chapter 7 - The Woman in the Photograph
Her name was Dr. Celeste Rowan.
Vale said it reluctantly.
That made Anna immediately interested.
Celeste had been Vale’s research partner.
Brilliant in molecular regeneration.
Twenty-six when Erebos began.
Vale designed the compound.
Celeste designed the delivery mechanism that allowed it to penetrate damaged tissue rapidly.
Daniel financed both.
After Mara’s condition deteriorated, Vale wanted to stop.
Celeste did not.
“She believed Mara wasn’t a failure,” Vale said.
“What did she call her?”
Vale hesitated.
“Adaptation.”
Anna’s stomach turned.
Not patient.
Not woman.
Adaptation.
According to official records, Celeste left Harrow Pharmaceuticals seven years earlier and moved to Switzerland.
Mara’s message said otherwise.
SHE NEVER LEFT.
Eleanor remembered Celeste differently.
“She was kind to Mara.”
Vale looked at her sharply.
“No.”
“She brought her books.”
“She studied which books calmed her.”
“She brushed her hair.”
“She collected hair samples.”
Eleanor stopped.
Again, kindness and exploitation wearing the same clothes.
Anna studied the photograph.
Celeste had pale hair tied behind her head.
Clear-framed glasses.
A soft smile.
Lily suddenly pointed.
“Her.”
Everyone turned.
“You know her?”
Lily nodded.
“The nice doctor.”
Vale went rigid.
“When did you see her?”
“Today.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs.”
The scientist who supposedly left seven years ago had been inside the mansion that afternoon.
Lily said Celeste gave her orange juice.
Asked whether she liked animals.
Asked whether she was afraid of the dark.
Then Vale arrived.
The adults argued.
Lily hid.
Later someone grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth.
“Who?”
Lily shook her head.
“Did you see?”
“No.”
“Was it Dr. Vale?”
“I don’t know.”
Anna looked at Vale.
He did not defend himself immediately.
That worried her.
“What were you doing here?”
Vale finally admitted he received an anonymous message three days earlier.
ONE IS FAILING. COME HOME.
Attached:
a photograph of Mara.
Recent.
Vale returned to the mansion without telling Eleanor.
“Why secretly?”
“Because if Celeste was alive, I needed proof.”
“Why not police?”
Vale looked at Mara’s photographs.
“Try telling the police an eight-year-old illegal experiment has become a gray woman living inside a wall.”
Anna hated that he had a point.
Not enough to forgive him.
But enough to understand the trap secrecy creates.
Vale came through the lower entrance.
Found evidence the lab had been reactivated.
Then saw Lily.
He tried to take her upstairs.
Someone attacked him from behind.
When he woke, Lily was gone.
“That’s why you were looking for her?”
“Yes.”
“You said you brought her to the service room.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew how everything sounded.”
Anna almost laughed.
Again.
Everyone lied because truth sounded bad.
And each lie made truth harder to find.
Mara scraped behind the grate.
Anna crouched.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
Mara pushed her fingers through.
Something was wrapped around one.
A strip of faded blue fabric.
Anna recognized it.
Mara’s old catering uniform had used blue identification ribbons for temporary staff.
Eight years.
She kept it.
Anna touched the fabric.
Mara pulled her hand back.
Then tapped.
Three.
Two.
Three.
Anna suddenly remembered.
As children, they used knocks through their bedroom wall.
Three-two-three meant:
LISTEN.
Anna became still.
At first she heard nothing.
Then—
a soft mechanical pulse beneath the laboratory floor.
Vale heard it too.
“No.”
He moved toward a cabinet.
Pulled it aside.
A concealed elevator door.
The indicator above it glowed.
B2.
There was another level.
Eleanor whispered:
“Daniel told me there was only one laboratory.”
Vale shook his head.
“So did Celeste.”
The elevator began rising.
B2.
B1.
Anna grabbed Lily.
Vale picked up a metal instrument.
Eleanor backed away.
The doors opened.
Nobody stood inside.
Only a wheelchair.
On its seat lay a child’s red sneaker.
Lily whispered:
“Ben.”
Anna looked at her.
“The sleeping boy?”
Lily nodded.
“He woke up.”
Then something moved beneath the wheelchair.
A small hand.
Human.
May you like
And from inside the elevator came a boy’s frightened whisper:
“Don’t let the doctor see me.”
