PART 7: The Truth About Me
PART 7: The Truth About Me
I stared at the document.
My name.
My birthday.
My medical records.
All sitting in front of me like proof that my entire life had been a lie.
No one spoke.
Because everyone was waiting for me to break.
Maybe they expected tears.
Maybe they expected anger.
Maybe they expected me to scream.
But I couldn’t.
I felt nothing.
Sometimes the truth hurts so much that your body protects you by becoming numb.
I looked at my grandmother.
“The reason they started?”
My voice sounded empty.
“Explain.”
Eleanor looked at me.
And I saw something I had never seen before.
Fear.
Not fear of losing power.
Not fear of being exposed.
Fear of losing me.
“I don’t know everything.”
I laughed softly.
“Of course.”
Everyone looked at me.
I wiped my face.
“My whole life, everyone knows something except me.”
A pause.
“Why should this be different?”
My father stepped closer.
“Emma…”
I turned toward him.
“No.”
He stopped.
“You don’t get to comfort me.”
His face fell.
Because he knew I was right.
“You knew something too.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet.
And somehow that hurt more than a lie.
“How long?”
He swallowed.
“Since your mother died.”
My chest tightened.
“You knew?”
He nodded.
“I found the files.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
His eyes filled.
“Because I was afraid.”
I stared at him.
“Afraid of what?”
He looked at the document.
“Of what they would do if they knew you were still connected.”
My voice became colder.
“So instead you lied.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“By making me feel unwanted?”
He had no answer.
Because there was none.
My father looked away.
And for the first time, I saw him not as the man who hurt me…
But as a broken person who had made terrible choices.
It didn’t excuse anything.
But it explained something.
My grandmother touched the document.
“There is missing information.”
Claire frowned.
“Missing?”
Eleanor nodded.
“This report isn’t complete.”
She looked at me.
“Someone removed pages.”
I looked at Claire.
“Can you find them?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“But there’s something else.”
“What?”
Claire looked at the report.
“This wasn’t created by Blackwood Holdings.”
Everyone froze.
My grandmother frowned.
“Impossible.”
Claire shook her head.
“I checked the signatures.”
She pointed.
“The authorization stamp.”
A pause.
“This came from another organization.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which one?”
Claire opened another folder.
The name was hidden under black ink.
But one word remained visible.
Genesis.
Nobody spoke.
Then my grandmother whispered:
“Impossible.”
I looked at her.
“You know it?”
She looked terrified.
“I thought it was gone.”
My father stepped forward.
“What is Genesis?”
Eleanor didn’t answer.
Claire did.
“A private research group.”
A pause.
“Decades ago, they believed human abilities could be improved through genetic manipulation.”
My skin crawled.
“Abilities?”
Claire nodded.
“They weren’t looking for disease cures.”
She looked at me.
“They were looking for something else.”
“What?”
The room went silent.
Then Claire said:
“Enhanced humans.”
I almost laughed.
Because it sounded impossible.
Like a story.
Like fiction.
But my life had become something I no longer recognized.
“So I’m…”
I couldn’t finish.
Eleanor looked at me.
“No.”
Her voice was firm.
“You are not a project.”
A pause.
“You are my granddaughter.”
For a second…
I wanted to believe her.
I wanted to run into her arms.
But the image of me freezing outside came back.
The years she wasn’t there.
The years I needed her.
And she wasn’t.
“I don’t know who you are anymore.”
That sentence hurt her.
I saw it.
But she accepted it.
Because she deserved it.
Then Claire’s phone rang.
Everyone turned.
She looked at the screen.
Her face changed.
“What is it?”
She didn’t answer.
She listened.
Then whispered:
“No.”
A pause.
“That’s impossible.”
My father looked worried.
“Claire?”
She slowly lowered the phone.
“They found us.”
The room went cold.
My grandmother immediately moved.
“Who?”
Claire looked at me.
And I knew the answer before she said it.
“Genesis.”
The mansion suddenly felt smaller.
The guards moved toward the windows.
The doors locked.
My grandmother’s security team surrounded us.
But Claire shook her head.
“That won’t help.”
My grandmother looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
Claire’s voice trembled.
“They don’t come like normal enemies.”
A pause.
“They don’t attack.”
Everyone waited.
“Then what do they do?”
Claire looked at me.
“They take back what belongs to them.”
The words made my blood freeze.
I stepped back.
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
Claire’s eyes softened.
“I know.”
A pause.
“But they don’t.”
Suddenly…
The power went out.
Again.
The entire mansion went dark.
A sound came from downstairs.
Glass breaking.
Then another.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Calm.
Not rushing.
Like whoever entered already knew they had won.
My father moved in front of me.
I almost didn’t recognize him.
Because this was the first time he had protected me without trying to control me.
My grandmother stood beside him.
Together.
For once.
Not fighting.
Not hiding.
Just trying to keep me safe.
Then a voice came through the house speakers.
A man’s voice.
Smooth.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Emma Parker.”
My heart stopped.
Because he knew my name.
Not the name from records.
The name only my family used.
The voice continued.
“We’ve been looking for you.”
My grandmother whispered:
“No…”
The voice laughed.
“Eleanor.”
A pause.
“You really thought you could hide her forever?”
My grandmother stepped toward the speaker.
“Who are you?”
The answer came immediately.
“I’m the person who knows what Emma really is.”
I felt cold.
The voice continued:
“And unlike you…”
A pause.
“I know what her mother discovered.”
My fingers touched the silver key around my neck.
The key my mother gave me.
The warning.
The secret.
Then the man said:
“Emma…”
“Your mother didn’t leave you that key to protect you.”
A pause.
“She left it because she knew you would need to unlock the truth.”
The lights suddenly returned.
But something had changed.
On the wall.
A projector turned on.
A video appeared.
A little girl.
Me.
Maybe five years old.
Sitting in a medical room.
Crying.
A younger version of my mother holding my hand.
And behind the glass…
A man watching.
May you like
The voice whispered:
“Welcome home, Subject Zero.”
