Chapter 6 - Lenora’s Secret
Roman remembered his mother as gentle.
That was the first problem.
Gentle people were easy to turn into saints after death.
Lenora Vale had attended every school performance.
She remembered birthdays.
She volunteered at hospitals and paid tuition for children whose parents worked for the family.
When Roman was thirteen and broke another boy’s nose for mocking Celeste, Lenora had made him apologize.
Not for defending his sister.
For enjoying the violence.
“Strength without mercy becomes cruelty,” she had told him.
Now Thomas wanted Roman to believe that same woman had created the Harbor Program.
Roman almost hung up.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Mom hated everything you built.”
“Because she knew what it became.”
Thomas coughed.
The sound was wet.
Sick.
Emma moved closer.
Roman put the call on speaker.
Thomas continued.
“Lenora started the program in 1998. Not to sell children. To protect them.”
Victor lowered his hands.
Roman kept the weapon on him.
Thomas explained.
Lenora had volunteered at a women’s shelter.
She repeatedly saw pregnant women trapped by violent partners, immigration threats or wealthy families trying to control custody.
She created an unofficial network.
Doctors.
Lawyers.
Safe houses.
Children and mothers were given temporary identities.
Sometimes permanent ones.
Emma glanced at the files.
“That explains the altered birth records.”
“At first,” Thomas said.
“Then what?”
“Money entered.”
Roman looked toward Victor.
Thomas continued.
“Victor and I financed expansion. We convinced ourselves we were saving lives.”
Victor closed his eyes.
Thomas said:
“Then powerful people discovered the network could erase history.”
Roman understood.
“A child could disappear.”
“Yes.”
“A mother could disappear.”
“Yes.”
“A biological father could be removed from records.”
“Yes.”
“And you sold that ability.”
Thomas was silent.
Roman laughed bitterly.
“Mom built a shelter. You built a market.”
“Yes.”
Emma asked, “Why preserve my embryos?”
Thomas took several seconds to answer.
“Because Shaw wanted them.”
“Why?”
“You were useful.”
Emma stiffened.
“How?”
“Your genetic profile.”
She frowned.
Thomas explained that Emma carried a rare immune-system marker associated with resistance to a blood disorder that affected one of Shaw’s wealthy clients.
Roman’s expression darkened.
“He wanted children for genetic matching?”
“At first.”
Emma whispered, “Savior siblings.”
“Without consent.”
Roman’s grip tightened.
Thomas continued.
“When I discovered Shaw intended to use your embryos, I moved them.”
“You didn’t destroy them.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Thomas’s voice cracked.
“Because they were my grandchildren.”
Roman stared at the phone.
“Don’t make that sound noble.”
“I’m not.”
Emma asked, “How did Katherine become involved?”
“She contacted me after finding old files. I told her the truth.”
“And she agreed to carry them?”
“Eventually.”
Emma shook her head.
“She wouldn’t do that without telling me.”
“She planned to.”
“What stopped her?”
Thomas went silent.
Roman knew the answer would hurt.
“Celeste.”
Celeste’s name landed like broken glass.
Roman said, “Explain.”
“Celeste met Katherine two months before implantation.”
Roman’s face changed.
“She knew longer than she claimed.”
“Yes.”
Emma closed her eyes.
Another lie.
Thomas continued.
“But Celeste wasn’t working for Shaw then. She was working for me.”
Roman stared.
His sister was standing inside his penthouse right now.
Or should have been.
He called her.
No answer.
He called Marco.
“Where’s Celeste?”
“She left ten minutes ago.”
“Why?”
“She said you told her to meet you.”
“I didn’t.”
Roman swore.
Thomas said through the speaker, “Shaw has her.”
Roman froze.
“How do you know?”
“Because he has been listening to everything.”
A clicking sound came through the call.
Then another voice joined.
Leonard Shaw.
Smooth.
Educated.
Calm.
“Hello, Roman.”
Roman’s face hardened.
“Where’s my sister?”
“Safe.”
“You people love that word.”
Shaw chuckled.
“Your father always appreciated your temperament.”
Thomas snapped, “Leonard—”
“Quiet, Tom.”
Roman noticed.
Shaw controlled Thomas too.
“Where are they?”
Shaw continued.
“Your sister made a mistake tonight.”
Roman looked at Emma.
“What mistake?”
“She stopped believing me.”
Roman heard Celeste in the background.
“Roman, don’t—”
The line muffled.
Roman’s jaw flexed.
Shaw said:
“Bring the journal.”
“Again?”
“This time bring all pages concerning Harbor Program birth transfers.”
“Where?”
Shaw gave an address.
Emma recognized it.
“Boston Maritime Museum?”
“Closed renovation wing,” Shaw said. “One hour.”
Roman ended the call.
Victor immediately said, “It’s a trap.”
Roman pointed the gun at him again.
“Wonderful insight.”
“Roman, Shaw wants the journal because Lenora recorded original identities. If he destroys it, hundreds of people lose the only proof of who they are.”
Emma looked at the shelves of files.
“Make copies.”
Roman called Marco.
“Scan everything. Three locations. No family servers.”
Victor said, “I know someone at the FBI.”
Roman laughed.
“Of course you do.”
“I’ve been building a case.”
“For how long?”
“Eight years.”
Roman stared at him.
“Eight years and children were still being stolen.”
Victor absorbed it.
“Yes.”
That answer was better than an excuse.
Emma took Roman aside.
“You can’t walk into Shaw’s trap carrying what he wants.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re going.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going too.”
“No.”
“Lucy is my daughter.”
Roman looked at her.
“So is Caleb. Someone needs to stay with him.”
Emma’s expression changed.
“You’re asking me to choose.”
“No.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Roman lowered his voice.
“I’m asking you to protect the child we have in front of us while I go after the one we don’t.”
Emma blinked away tears.
It was cruelly logical.
She hated him for being right.
Roman reached toward her.
Stopped.
Then touched her cheek.
The gesture surprised both of them.
“I’ll bring her back.”
Emma whispered, “You promised me something once.”
Roman remembered.
The night he proposed.
I will never let you face anything alone.
Then she had faced everything alone.
“I broke that promise.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t break this one.”
One hour later, Roman entered the museum renovation wing carrying a leather satchel.
Victor waited three blocks away.
Marco controlled two exits.
The FBI contact Victor trusted waited nearby but had been told nothing about Roman’s entrance strategy.
Roman did not trust federal badges any more than family names.
The museum was dark.
Plastic construction sheeting fluttered.
A light switched on.
Celeste sat tied to a chair.
Shaw stood beside her.
He was in his early sixties.
Silver glasses.
Expensive suit.
The pleasant face of a man who could explain horrifying things in medical language until they sounded reasonable.
“Journal.”
Roman lifted the satchel.
“Lucy.”
Shaw smiled.
“With your father.”
“Address.”
“After.”
Celeste looked at Roman.
“I’m sorry.”
Roman ignored her.
Shaw said, “She really is.”
“You drugged Caleb through her.”
“She followed medical advice.”
“You poisoned my son.”
“A controlled dose. Enough to create symptoms requiring hospital evaluation.”
Roman stared.
“You wanted Emma involved.”
“Very much.”
“Why?”
Shaw smiled at last.
“Because Katherine refused the final procedure.”
Roman’s stomach tightened.
“What procedure?”
“Lucy was always intended for someone else.”
Roman took a slow breath.
“Who?”
“A child with her genetic profile can provide extraordinarily valuable stem-cell material.”
Roman’s voice disappeared.
“You created my daughter for harvesting.”
“I created nothing. Nature did that.”
Roman nearly shot him.
Celeste shouted, “Roman!”
He stopped.
Shaw’s smile faded.
“The journal.”
Roman tossed the bag.
Shaw opened it.
Blank notebooks.
His face changed.
Roman moved.
The first shot came from somewhere above.
Roman dropped behind a display wall.
Celeste screamed.
Shaw ran.
Roman fired at the ceiling catwalk.
A shadow disappeared.
He reached Celeste.
Cut her restraints.
“Where’s the real journal?” she asked.
“Not here.”
“Good.”
Roman grabbed her wrist.
“Move.”
They reached the rear corridor.
An explosion shook the building.
Not huge.
Controlled.
Enough to collapse a construction partition behind them.
Shaw had planned to erase the scene.
Roman and Celeste escaped through a side exit.
Victor’s SUV stopped beside them.
They got in.
Roman called Emma.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Marco checked the penthouse cameras remotely.
Then his face changed.
“Roman.”
“What?”
“The nursery.”
Roman grabbed the phone.
On the monitor, Caleb’s crib was empty.
Emma was gone.
A message had been written across the wall in red marker.
ONE CHILD FOR THE JOURNAL. ONE DOCTOR FOR THE TRUTH.
May you like
Beneath it:
ASK THOMAS WHY EMMA WAS CHOSEN BEFORE SHE EVER MET YOU.
