Chapter 8: The Name Behind the Secret
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Arthur took the phone from the desk.
“Who's sending these?””
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Daniel stared at the message.
“You do.””
She looked at him.
“You know exactly who this is.””
Rebecca's face hardened.
“No.””
“Rebecca.””
“No.””
I stepped between them.
“Enough.””
They both turned toward me.
I pointed at the screen.
“Who is Dr. Samuel Whitmore?””
Dean Walker finally answered.
“He was a genetic researcher.””
“And?””
“He had access to every medical record connected to the university's research hospital.””
I looked at Rebecca.
“And he knew about me.””
“Yes.””
“Before I was born?””
She nodded.
“Before you were born.””
My chest tightened.
“Why?””
Rebecca looked at Arthur.
Then at Daniel.
“He believed certain genetic traits could be identified before birth.””
I stared at her.
“That sounds insane.””
“It was unethical.””
Daniel added, “And profitable.””
I looked at him.
“How?””
“People paid him for information.””
“About unborn children?””
“About families.””
Dean Walker stepped closer.
“He had connections to private companies, insurers, even wealthy individuals who wanted access to medical data.””
My stomach turned.
“And my records were part of that?””
Rebecca nodded.
“Your records were unusually valuable.””
“Why?””
She looked at me.
“Because of your father.””
I frowned.
“Arthur?””
She shook her head.
“Daniel.””
Daniel's expression changed.
“Don't.””
Rebecca continued.
“Daniel carried a rare genetic marker.””
Daniel looked at me.
“And Marcus inherited it.””
The room became silent.
I stared at the computer.
“So this whole thing…”
“Started because of your DNA,” Rebecca said.
I laughed bitterly.
“You're telling me someone spent twenty-five years hunting me because of a genetic marker?””
“Not just hunting you.””
She pointed toward the files.
“They were studying you.””
I felt sick.
Arthur stepped beside me.
“They never touched him.””
Rebecca looked at him.
“They tried.””
Arthur went silent.
“What?””
She opened another folder.
Inside were photographs.
My childhood.
My school.
My first apartment.
My college campus.
My graduation schedule.
My blood tests.
My stomach dropped.
“They've been watching me.””
Rebecca nodded.
“For years.””
I turned toward Arthur.
“You knew?””
He shook his head.
“I knew someone might be watching. I didn't know how much.””
I looked at the photographs.
One showed me at fourteen playing basketball.
Another showed me leaving high school.
Another showed me entering the university dormitories.
Then I saw one taken three days ago.
Me.
Walking across campus.
Someone had circled my face in red.
Underneath was one word:
*READY.*
My hands started shaking.
Dean Walker reached for the laptop.
“There's more.””
He opened another file.
A list of payments appeared.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars.
All going to different accounts.
One account name repeated.
*W. HOLDINGS.*
Daniel stared at it.
“I know that name.””
“From where?””
“An old investigation.””
Arthur looked at him.
“You said that organization disappeared.””
“It did.””
“Then who's funding it now?””
Daniel scrolled downward.
A final transaction appeared.
Yesterday's date.
Recipient:
*Samuel Whitmore.*
My throat went dry.
“If he's alive…”
“He never died,” Daniel said.
Rebecca sat down.
“He faked his death.””
“Why?””
Nobody answered.
Then Dean Walker whispered, “Because someone helped him.””
We all looked at him.
I frowned.
“Who?””
The dean's face was gray.
“I thought the person was dead.””
Arthur's voice sharpened.
“Name them.””
Dean Walker hesitated.
“President Malcolm Harris.””
Rebecca stood abruptly.
“No.””
“He was the university president twenty-five years ago,” the dean said.
“And now?””
“Still alive.””
Daniel's jaw tightened.
“Where?””
Dean Walker looked at the laptop.
“At this university.””
My heart began pounding.
“He's here?””
“He's attending the graduation.””
I stared at him.
“The man who's been watching me is in this building?””
“Yes.””
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
“We have to leave.””
Arthur nodded.
“Now.””
We moved toward the hidden door.
But before anyone could open it, the lights went out.
Again.
This time, there were no screams.
No distant footsteps.
Just darkness.
Then a man's voice came through a speaker hidden somewhere in the wall.
“Rebecca.””
She froze.
The voice continued.
“You should have stayed gone.””
Daniel stepped in front of her.
“Whitmore.””
A soft laugh echoed through the room.
“Hello, Daniel.””
Arthur grabbed my shoulder.
“Marcus, stay behind me.””
The voice continued.
“You've all made this so unnecessarily difficult.””
I shouted toward the ceiling.
“What do you want?””
Silence.
Then:
“You.””
A red light appeared above the laptop.
A camera.
It pointed directly at me.
Whitmore spoke again.
“Your mother was supposed to give you to me twenty-five years ago.””
Rebecca whispered, “I never agreed.””
“You didn't have a choice.””
Arthur moved toward the camera.
“You're not taking my son.””
Whitmore laughed.
“Arthur, you still don't understand.””
“What?””
“You were never protecting Marcus from us.””
A pause.
“You were protecting Marcus from yourself.””
Arthur went completely still.
I turned toward him.
“What does that mean?””
Whitmore answered before Arthur could.
“Ask your father why your birth certificate has his name on it…”
The room fell silent.
“…but your original hospital record has someone else's.””
The line went dead.
I looked at Arthur.
“Original hospital record?””
He couldn't look at me.
I stepped closer.
“Dad?””
His silence was answer enough.
May you like
Then the hidden door behind us slowly began to open.
And someone was standing on the other side.
