Chapter 16 - THE RETREAT THAT BURNEDThe Vermont retreat had burned in official records.
In reality, only the buildings above ground had died.
Maren learned that at 4:16 the next morning, when Gabriel’s convoy stopped at the edge of a pine forest and Elias pointed toward a hill half-buried in mist.
“The pediatric center was built into the slope,” he said. “The lodge burned. The lower labs survived.”
Vivian stood beside Maren’s chair, staring into the trees.
“I was told the entire site was destroyed.”
Elias looked at her.
“Samuel told many people many things.”
Maren heard the bitterness.
So did Vivian.
Celeste stepped out of the SUV wrapped in a thick coat, face pale from the cold and everything else.
For most of the drive, she had been silent. No excuses. No sobbing. Just staring at the photograph of the two newborns.
At one point, she had whispered, “I used to tell people I was younger because Maren got everything first.”
Maren had not answered.
What could she say?
Apparently, Celeste had not even gotten her own birthday.
Gabriel returned from scouting.
“Entrance is half a mile in. No visible guards, which means they’re inside.”
Nora checked her encrypted tablet.
“Our release trigger is active. If we miss check-in, everything publishes.”
Maren looked toward the dark hill.
“Alistair may already be done.”
Vivian shook her head.
“No. If he had what he needed, Helena wouldn’t have risked sending the photograph.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened at his mother’s name.
They moved through the forest under low gray light.
The terrain was brutal. Roots. Mud. Snow crusted beneath leaves. Maren’s all-terrain chair handled much of it, but twice Gabriel and Elias had to help guide the wheels over stone.
Celeste walked behind her.
At one point, Maren heard her stumble.
Instinct made Maren glance back.
Celeste caught herself.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, both remembered being children before lies sorted them into roles.
Then Maren turned forward.
The entrance was hidden behind a collapsed stone wall and a curtain of dead ivy. A steel hatch opened with a code Elias still remembered.
Inside, the air changed.
Sterile.
Cold.
Alive with electricity.
The underground corridor glowed faintly blue.
Maren rolled forward slowly.
On the walls hung faded murals: children holding balloons, painted suns, cartoon animals.
A pediatric research retreat.
A place built to heal children.
Now it felt like a tomb wearing nursery colors.
They passed empty rooms with tiny beds.
Observation windows.
Old therapy equipment.
Celeste whispered, “Were we here?”
Vivian did not answer.
Maren looked at her mother.
“Were we?”
Vivian’s face was gray.
“I don’t know.”
They reached a central lab.
The doors opened before Gabriel touched them.
Inside, Helena Cross stood waiting.
Gabriel stopped.
She looked older than the video, smaller in person, but her eyes were his.
“Hello, my North Star,” she whispered.
Gabriel’s face twisted with fury and grief.
“Don’t call me that.”
Helena flinched.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve worse.”
“Yes.”
Maren rolled forward.
“Where is Alistair?”
“Gone.”
Gabriel drew his weapon.
Helena lifted both hands.
“He left two hours ago with Reed.”
Maren’s eyes narrowed.
“Reed?”
“Yes.”
Celeste made a sound.
Helena looked at her.
“And you must be Celeste.”
Celeste hugged herself. “Apparently I must be many things.”
Helena’s face softened.
“I am sorry.”
Celeste laughed coldly.
“People keep saying that right before ruining my life further.”
Maren almost admired the line.
Almost.
Vivian stepped forward.
“Helena. Tell me the truth.”
The older woman looked at Vivian for a long time.
Then she said, “Samuel didn’t know Celeste lived.”
Vivian went still.
Celeste froze.
Maren’s hands tightened.
“What?”
Helena’s eyes filled.
“You gave birth to twins. Maren was strong. Celeste wasn’t breathing. The attending physician declared her dead. But she revived in the neonatal lab seventeen minutes later.”
Vivian covered her mouth.
“No one told me.”
“Alistair controlled the hospital wing that night. He realized Samuel’s genetic security design could be split. One child visible. One child hidden.”
Celeste stumbled backward.
Nora caught her arm.
Helena continued through tears.
“He arranged for Celeste to be placed through a private adoption channel, then returned later under a false age and altered records after your relatives petitioned to raise an orphaned child within the family. You believed she was your younger daughter because grief and paperwork told you so.”
Vivian sank into a chair.
Celeste whispered, “I was stolen?”
Helena nodded.
“And returned wrong.”
That broke Celeste.
She turned away, pressing both hands over her mouth.
Maren felt the room tilt.
Their entire sisterhood had been engineered.
Not to bond them.
To divide them.
Helena looked at Maren.
“Your father’s therapy required paired genetic authorization after Alistair’s first theft attempt. Samuel used both daughters’ markers unknowingly from birth samples. He thought the second belonged to a deceased infant. The system remained dormant because both living adult profiles were never authenticated.”
Maren’s voice was quiet.
“And now Alistair needs Celeste.”
“He needs both of you,” Helena said. “Celeste for the hidden lineage lock. You for the patent authority and neural compatibility.”
Maren felt Celeste look at her.
Neural compatibility.
The therapy could help her.
But Alistair wanted to sell it.
Control it.
Turn healing into a luxury product.
“Why did you help him?” Gabriel demanded.
Helena closed her eyes.
“Because he had you.”
Gabriel went still.
“He told me if I disappeared and worked, you would live. If I refused, you would die like Samuel.”
Gabriel’s gun lowered slightly.
Pain moved across his face.
“You let me bury you.”
“Yes,” Helena whispered. “And there is no apology large enough.”
Vivian looked at her.
Two mothers.
Two ghosts.
Both alive.
Both guilty.
Maren’s voice cut through the grief.
“Where did Alistair take Reed?”
Helena wiped her eyes.
“To the Canadian border. Private airfield.”
Nora typed fast. “We can alert authorities.”
Helena shook her head.
“He has men in the route. He won’t fly under his name.”
Maren looked around the lab.
“Then why leave you?”
Helena’s face changed.
“Because he thinks I can no longer stop him.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“Can you?”
Helena walked to a locked cabinet and pressed her palm against it.
The door opened.
Inside were three vials, a tablet, and a silver injector case.
“The treatment prototype,” she said. “Not enough for market. Not enough for profit. But enough to prove the truth.”
Maren stared at the case.
Her pulse roared.
Helena held it out.
“This belongs to you.”
Maren did not take it.
Everyone watched.
The room seemed to hold every version of her at once: the girl who ran at the lake house, the woman trapped under a car in the river, the wife on the dining room floor, the survivor in the vault.
A cure.
A weapon.
A choice.
Maren looked at Celeste.
“Does it need both of us?”
Helena nodded.
“For full activation, yes.”
Celeste wiped her face.
“Then use me.”
Maren looked at her.
Celeste’s voice shook.
“Not because it fixes anything. It doesn’t. But if my blood was used to hurt you, then use it once to help.”
Maren could not speak.
Gabriel’s radio crackled.
“Movement outside.”
Helena’s face went pale.
“Alistair sent cleanup.”
The lights flickered.
Somewhere deep in the facility, metal doors began closing.
Gabriel raised his weapon.
“Maren, we have to move.”
Maren finally took the silver case.
It was cold in her hand.
Above them, heavy footsteps echoed through the retreat that had supposedly burned decades ago.
Maren looked at Helena.
“Can you broadcast the research?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Helena nodded.
“And Alistair?”
May you like
Maren’s eyes hardened.
“He doesn’t leave the country.”
