Chapter 5: Project Zoe
I stared at the photograph until the words on the file seemed to move.
*PROJECT ZOE.*
Six years ago.
Before I knew Marcus.
Before I worked for his family.
Before Zoe was even born.
My fingers went numb around the phone.
“Nathan,” I whispered.
“What is Project Zoe?””
He didn't answer immediately.
That silence frightened me more than any warning could have.
“Nathan?””
“I don't know everything.””
“You know enough.””
“I know the file exists.””
“Who created it?””
“I don't know.””
“Who is in that photograph?””
“I told you. I can't see clearly.””
I zoomed in.
Marcus stood beside the desk.
Vanessa was behind him.
The file was open.
A thick stack of papers protruded from one side.
And beside the file sat a small black flash drive.
I looked at the timestamp.
The photograph had been taken three minutes earlier.
Three minutes.
Meaning Vanessa was still in the west office.
With my husband.
“Nathan, I need to get there.””
“No.””
“My husband is in that room.””
“And that's exactly why you shouldn't go.””
“He may be in danger.””
“So may you.””
I looked through the glass at Zoe.
My daughter was sleeping beneath the hospital lights.
She was safe for the moment.
That was all that mattered.
“I can't sit here.””
“You don't understand what they may be trying to do.””
“Then explain it.””
Nathan exhaled.
“Six years ago, Marcus started an internal investigation into a financial project.””
“What project?””
“Your name was attached to it.””
“But I didn't know Marcus six years ago.””
“Exactly.””
The word hung between us.
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“Then somebody used my identity before I even knew the man.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
“Who could have done that?””
“I have a theory.””
“What theory?””
He paused.
“Someone wanted a person who looked clean.””
“Clean?””
“Someone with no connection to the company. No history. No reason to attract attention.””
I swallowed.
“And they chose me.””
“Yes.””
“But why me?””
“That is what we need to find out.””
I glanced back at the hallway.
No footsteps now.
No strangers.
Nothing.
Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me.
Then the hospital room door opened.
A nurse stepped out.
“Ms. Miller?””
I turned.
“Yes?””
“We need you for a moment.””
I followed her inside.
Zoe was awake.
Her eyes found me immediately.
“Mommy.””
I rushed to her.
“I'm here.””
She reached for me.
I sat beside her bed.
“How are you feeling?””
“My throat doesn't hurt as much.””
Relief flooded through me.
“Good.””
“Where's Daddy?””
“He's handling something at home.””
“Is Vanessa there?””
I hesitated.
“Yes.””
Zoe looked frightened.
“Don't let her come here.””
“She won't.””
“She knows.””
“Knows what?””
Zoe looked toward the nurse.
The nurse quietly stepped outside.
Zoe lowered her voice.
“The room.””
My heart began pounding.
“What room?””
“The secret room.””
I leaned closer.
“What secret room?””
She looked toward the door.
“Daddy told me never to go there.””
“Why?””
“Because that's where Mommy's things are.””
I froze.
“My things?””
Zoe nodded.
“Pictures.””
“What pictures?””
“Pictures of you.””
My mouth went dry.
“When?””
“A long time ago.””
“How long?””
“Before I was born.””
I stared at her.
“Zoe, who showed you those pictures?””
She shook her head.
“Vanessa.””
“When?””
“Before Christmas.””
“What did she say?””
“She said Mommy had a secret.””
A cold knot formed in my stomach.
“What secret?””
Zoe looked at me.
“She said you weren't really our nanny.””
I couldn't breathe.
“What did she mean?””
“She said Daddy hired you because of something that happened a long time ago.””
“What happened?””
“I don't know.””
I stroked her hair.
“Did she say anything else?””
Zoe nodded.
“She said you were part of Project Zoe.””
The room seemed to disappear around me.
I closed my eyes.
The same words.
The same impossible words.
“What else did Vanessa tell you?””
“She said Daddy would be angry if he found out.””
“Why?””
“Because he thinks you don't remember.””
“Remember what?””
Zoe's little face tightened.
“She wouldn't tell me.””
I kissed her forehead.
“Thank you for telling me.””
She grabbed my wrist.
“Mommy?””
“Yes?””
“Don't let Daddy open the red box.””
My blood ran cold.
“What red box?””
“The one in the secret room.””
Before I could ask another question, my phone vibrated.
Nathan.
*Someone is leaving the west office.*
I looked at Zoe.
Then at the door.
“What happened?”” she asked.
“Nothing, sweetheart.””
I stood.
“I'll be right back.””
The drive home felt endless.
Every red light felt like a trap.
I called Marcus twenty times.
Nothing.
Then, halfway there, my phone rang.
His number.
I answered instantly.
“Marcus?””
No voice.
Only breathing.
“Marcus, say something.””
A click.
Then a whisper.
“Grace.””
My heart jumped.
“Are you okay?””
“Listen to me.””
“Where are you?””
“Not the house.””
“Where?””
“I'm in the car.””
“Why?””
“Because Vanessa made me leave.””
“What?””
“She said there was a threat.””
“What threat?””
“I don't know.””
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“Where is she?””
“Behind me.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
“I think she's following me.””
“Marcus, drive to the police station.””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because if I'm right, the police may already be involved.””
“What are you talking about?””
“I found a file.””
“Project Zoe?””
He went silent.
“You know about it?””
“I saw it.””
“Where?””
“In the west office.””
“And Vanessa?””
“She was there.””
“Marcus, what is this?””
His breathing became uneven.
“I don't know.””
“You do know something.””
“I found something under the desk.””
“What?””
“A photograph.””
“What photograph?””
“You.””
I nearly missed the light.
“Me?””
“You were younger.””
“How young?””
“Maybe twenty.””
“That can't be right.””
“I know.””
“I've never seen that photograph.””
“I know.””
“Where was it taken?””
“I don't know.””
“Marcus, tell me.””
“I think it was at a clinic.””
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
A clinic.
Six years ago.
The words connected in my head before I could stop them.
“Marcus.””
“Yes?””
“Was Zoe born six years ago?””
“No.””
“Then why would there be a clinic photograph?””
“I don't know.””
“Who was with me?””
“You were alone.””
I couldn't speak.
Then Marcus whispered something that broke through the static.
“There was a baby.””
My stomach turned.
“What baby?””
“I don't know.””
“What do you mean you don't know?””
“There was a baby in your arms.””
I pulled the car to the side of the road.
“No.””
“Grace—”
“No.””
“I know how it sounds.””
“That isn't possible.””
“You were holding a newborn.””
“I didn't have a child six years ago.””
“I know.””
“Where is the photograph?””
“I have it.””
“Send it to me.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because someone is trying to take it.””
My pulse raced.
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
Then another voice came through the phone.
A woman.
Soft.
Calm.
“Marcus?””
I froze.
Vanessa.
“Marcus,” she said again.
Marcus whispered, “She's here.””
The call ended.
I sat in the dark car.
Then my phone lit up.
A message.
From Vanessa.
*You should have listened to me.*
Another message arrived.
*You were never supposed to see the file.*
Then a third.
*Go to the old clinic.*
I stared.
Below the message was an address.
I recognized the street.
My grandmother had lived near it.
I hadn't been there in years.
I started driving again.
Not toward home.
Toward the clinic.
The building had been abandoned for years.
The sign outside was faded, the windows covered in dust.
I parked across the street.
My phone showed no signal.
I stepped out.
The air smelled like rain and old concrete.
Then I saw the front door was open.
I shouldn't have gone inside.
I knew that.
Every part of me screamed not to.
But the words *Project Zoe* kept echoing through my mind.
I pushed the door open.
The hallway was dark.
A broken reception desk sat near the entrance.
On the wall, beneath layers of peeling paint, I could still make out a faded blue logo.
*St. Mary's Family Clinic.*
I walked farther.
At the end of the hallway was a metal door.
There was a handwritten label taped to it.
*ARCHIVES.*
The door wasn't locked.
Inside were rows of boxes.
Patient records.
Old invoices.
Photographs.
I pulled out my phone flashlight.
Then I saw a box sitting alone on the floor.
Black.
Clean.
Newer than everything around it.
A white label was taped across the lid.
My name.
*GRACE MILLER*
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a stack of photographs.
The first showed me standing outside the clinic.
The second showed me sitting in a waiting room.
The third showed me holding a newborn baby.
I dropped the photograph.
“No.””
There was another photograph beneath it.
This one showed the baby's face clearly.
A tiny birth bracelet wrapped around the wrist.
I picked it up.
My breath caught.
The bracelet read:
*BABY ZOE*
I stumbled backward.
“No…”
A sound came from behind me.
The archive door slammed shut.
I spun around.
Someone was standing in the darkness.
A woman's voice whispered my name.
“Grace.””
I backed away.
“Who's there?””
The lights flickered on.
Vanessa stood between me and the door.
And in her hand was the original birth certificate for a baby named Zoe.
May you like
But the mother's name was not mine.
It belonged to Vanessa.
