Chapter 6: The Third Girl
The photograph filled every television screen in the ballroom.
Three little Black girls stood shoulder to shoulder beneath a hospital light.
The image was old, slightly warped at the corners, but the faces were clear.
Maya stared.
The girl on the left had two braids and a crooked smile.
The girl on the right had a tiny scar beneath her eyebrow.
The girl in the center had neither.
She was looking directly at the camera.
And around her neck hung a silver dog tag.
Maya's hand went numb.
“No,” she whispered.
Elijah stood in the doorway, chest rising and falling, his old military uniform marked with dust and blood.
His eyes never left the screens.
“Maya,” he said.
She turned.
“Which girl is me?””
He looked at the woman beside Harris.
Then at Maya.
His voice cracked.
“I don't know.””
The woman whispered, “You said you did.””
“I thought I did.””
“You promised me.””
“I was wrong.””
Harris stepped between them.
“Everyone needs to stay calm.””
Maya looked at him.
“Calm?””
She pointed at the screens.
“There are three of us.””
“Yes.””
“You knew.””
“I knew there were three subjects.””
“You knew there were three girls.””
Harris nodded.
“And you let me spend twenty-eight years believing I had one life.””
“I was trying to keep you alive.””
Maya's laugh was cold.
“You keep using that word.””
Behind them, the expensive-suit guest slowly lowered his weapon.
Nobody had disarmed him.
He simply stood there staring at the photograph.
The arrogance had disappeared from his face.
He looked sick.
Elijah noticed.
“You.””
The guest took a step back.
Elijah's eyes hardened.
“I know you.””
The man shook his head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
Elijah moved toward him.
“You were at Camp Redstone.””
The man said nothing.
“You were the translator.””
“I wasn't.””
“You were.””
Harris turned sharply.
“Elijah, stop.””
Elijah ignored him.
“You were there the night they moved the girls.””
Maya looked from one man to the other.
“What girls?””
Elijah answered without looking away.
“You.””
He pointed at Maya.
“And her.””
He pointed at the woman.
“Who is the third?””
Nobody spoke.
The television screens flickered.
The photograph disappeared.
A new message appeared in white letters against black.
*SUBJECT E-18 LOCATED.*
Maya's heart stopped.
Harris stared at the screens.
“Elijah…”
A second line appeared.
*TRANSFER IN PROGRESS.*
Then:
*DESTINATION: ROOM 214.*
The other woman backed away.
“No.””
Maya looked at her.
“What is E-18?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Elijah whispered, “I do.””
Maya turned.
“Tell me.””
Elijah's eyes filled with pain.
“E-18 was the child in the middle.””
Maya looked back at the screen.
“The third girl?””
“Yes.””
“Where is she?””
Elijah said nothing.
Maya stepped closer.
“Where?””
“Missing.””
“For how long?””
“Twenty-eight years.””
Harris looked toward the officers.
“Secure every exit.””
The mocking guest suddenly laughed.
It was quiet.
Almost exhausted.
“You don't have enough exits.””
Harris pointed his weapon at him.
“Keep talking and I'll make you regret being born.””
The man smiled.
“You still think this is about containment.””
“What is it about?””
“Replacement.””
Maya felt the word settle inside her.
“Replacement of what?””
The man looked at her.
“People.””
Elijah stepped forward.
“How did you get here?””
The guest glanced at him.
“The same way you did.””
“No one invited you.””
“You're right.””
He raised both hands.
“I was sent.””
“By whom?””
The man's eyes moved to the television.
“By the person who woke E-18.””
Maya's pulse quickened.
“Who's that?””
The screens changed again.
A security-camera image appeared.
A corridor.
Concrete walls.
A red door.
A small figure walking toward it.
The image zoomed.
Maya leaned closer.
The figure was a woman.
Black.
Gray hair.
An old hospital gown beneath a military coat.
She stopped at the red door.
Turned toward the camera.
Then smiled.
Maya knew that smile.
She had seen it in a dream since childhood.
A woman singing softly while brushing a little girl's hair.
Maya whispered, “My mother.””
Elijah looked at her.
“She died.””
“I know.””
“No,” he said.
“She was killed.””
Maya turned.
“What?””
“Your mother didn't die of cancer.””
Her eyes widened.
“She was murdered.””
The other woman covered her mouth.
Harris closed his eyes.
Maya stepped toward him.
“You knew that too?””
“Yes.””
“Who killed her?””
Harris hesitated.
“The program director.””
“Name.””
“Colonel Nathan Vale.””
Maya frowned.
“I don't know that name.””
“You were never supposed to.””
Elijah looked at Harris with open disgust.
“You promised no more lies.””
“I promised to protect the girls.””
“You failed.””
Harris's face tightened.
“I kept them alive.””
Elijah shook his head.
“You kept them ignorant.””
Maya looked between them.
“What happened to my mother?””
Elijah finally answered.
“She discovered there were three girls.””
“And?””
“She tried to expose Project Echo.””
“What did they do?””
“They erased her.””
Maya's voice trembled.
“Erase?””
Elijah looked at the photograph.
“They took her memories. Then they staged her death.””
Maya stopped.
A memory hit her.
A kitchen table.
A woman's hands.
A red scarf.
A voice saying:
“Whatever happens, remember your sister.””
Maya grabbed her head.
“My sister.””
The other woman stared at her.
“You remember?””
“Not you.””
“Then who?””
Maya shut her eyes.
“The little girl.””
She pointed toward the screen.
“Her.””
A sound came from somewhere behind the walls.
Three knocks.
Everyone froze.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Elijah turned toward the floor.
“Room 214.””
Harris spoke into his radio.
“Find the source.””
Static answered.
Then a woman's voice came through every speaker in the ballroom.
“Maya.””
The sound was distorted but unmistakably human.
Maya stepped forward.
“Who are you?””
A pause.
Then:
“I'm the one you forgot.””
The screens changed again.
The third girl appeared.
Older now.
Late forties.
Black hair.
Same eyes.
Same face.
Older Maya.
The woman smiled into the camera.
“You've been looking for me your entire life.””
Maya whispered, “Where are you?””
“Under the base.””
Harris immediately shouted, “Cut the feed!””
Nobody could.
The screens stayed on.
The woman continued.
“Elijah will tell you what happened in 1998.””
She smiled.
“But he won't tell you what happened before that.””
Maya looked at Elijah.
His face had gone pale.
“What aren't you telling me?””
He didn't answer.
The woman on the screen continued.
“You weren't recruited.””
Maya stared.
“You were created.””
Harris's radio crackled.
A voice screamed through the speaker.
“General! We have movement below the building!””
Then silence.
Maya looked at Harris.
“What does she mean?””
He did not speak.
“Elijah.””
Nothing.
“Tell me.””
Elijah's eyes filled with tears.
“You're going to hate me.””
“Tell me.””
He looked at the other woman.
Then back at Maya.
“In 1998, there was no rescue mission.””
Maya's breathing stopped.
“What?””
“We weren't sent to recover anyone.””
“Then why were we there?””
Elijah swallowed.
“To deliver you.””
“To whom?””
He couldn't make himself answer.
Maya stepped toward him.
“Who was waiting for us?””
Elijah finally whispered:
“Your father.””
Maya's face went blank.
“My father was dead.””
“He wasn't.””
“Where is he?””
Elijah looked at Harris.
The general slowly lowered his weapon.
“He died in the helicopter,” Harris said.
Maya turned toward him.
“You just told me he wasn't there.””
“I said Daniel Reed wasn't in the helicopter.””
Maya stared.
“Then who died?””
Harris's voice dropped.
“Dr. Marcus Carter.””
The name struck her like a physical blow.
Her father's face appeared in her mind.
The brown leather chair.
The red toolbox.
The old radio.
His hand on her shoulder.
And a sentence she had forgotten for twenty-eight years:
“You were never supposed to survive me.””
Maya stumbled backward.
The other woman caught her.
For the first time, the two women touched.
Both froze.
Both stared at each other.
A memory flashed through Maya's mind.
Two little girls running down a hospital hallway.
A third child behind them.
A man locking a steel door.
Then a siren.
Then fire.
Then Elijah screaming.
Maya pulled away.
“What happened that night?””
Elijah stepped closer.
“Your father gave you three identities.””
“Why?””
“Because someone wanted all three girls.””
“Who?””
He looked toward the television.
The third girl's image had disappeared.
A final message remained.
*ROOM 214 IS OPEN.*
Beneath it:
*COME ALONE, MAYA.*
Harris grabbed his radio.
“We're going underground.””
Maya turned toward him.
“No.””
“Maya, you're not going alone.””
“I don't think that message was meant for me.””
She held up the folder.
Then looked at the woman standing beside her.
The same face.
The same eyes.
The same scar.
“It's meant for whichever one of us remembers.””
She looked at Elijah.
“And I think I'm starting to.””
From beneath the ballroom floor came a deep mechanical clunk.
A hidden section of tile shifted.
A narrow staircase appeared beneath Table Seven.
Cold air rushed upward.
At the bottom, far beneath them, a red emergency light flickered.
Maya stared into the darkness.
Then a child's voice rose from below.
Soft.
Frightened.
Familiar.
“Please…”
Maya stepped toward the opening.
“Help me.””
The voice whispered her name.
Not Maya.
The other name.
The one buried beneath twenty-eight years of lies.
“Miriam…”
May you like
The woman beside her gasped.
And somewhere below, a lock clicked open.
