Chapter 7: The Woman Who Wasn't Me
The front door opened an inch.
Then another.
Nobody moved.
Mercer drew his weapon and stepped in front of Chloe.
“Stay behind me.””
I grabbed the computer from the desk and pulled the flash drive free.
“Rachel,” Mercer whispered, “don't make a sound.””
The door stopped.
For three seconds, there was only the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.
Then a voice floated through the house.
“Rachel?””
My blood turned cold.
It was my father's voice.
Not a recording.
Not memory.
A voice.
The exact warm, slightly rough voice I'd heard at our kitchen table.
Chloe covered her mouth.
Mercer stared at me.
“That isn't possible.””
The voice came again.
“Rachel, sweetheart?””
I took one step toward the hallway.
Mercer caught my wrist.
“No.””
“That sounds like Dad.””
“I know.””
The voice came from downstairs.
“Come downstairs.””
My father's favorite phrase.
The one he'd used when I was a child hiding after I'd broken something.
The one he'd used when I came home late.
The one that had always made me feel safe.
Now it made every hair on my arms stand up.
Mercer moved toward the staircase.
“Stay here.””
I shook my head.
“I'm coming.””
“You don't know what's down there.””
“I know what's down there better than you do.””
We descended slowly.
The hallway was empty.
The front door stood open.
Rain blew across the porch.
No one was there.
Then the voice came from the kitchen.
“Rachel.””
Mercer raised his weapon.
I stepped around him.
A small speaker sat on the kitchen counter.
A digital recorder.
Its red light blinked.
The recording stopped.
I stared at it.
Then I noticed the note taped underneath.
*YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO HEAR HIM AGAIN.*
Chloe began crying.
Mercer picked up the recorder.
“Someone planted this.””
“Obviously.””
He examined it.
“This is recent.””
“How recent?””
“Within the last hour.””
A car horn sounded outside.
We all jumped.
Mercer looked through the window.
“There's nobody there.””
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“Who is it?””
He didn't answer.
The phone continued vibrating.
Finally, he accepted.
“Mercer.””
A distorted voice spoke.
I couldn't hear the words.
Mercer's face went pale.
“Where?””
Silence.
Then he said, “No.””
The caller responded.
Mercer closed his eyes.
“I said no.””
He hung up.
“Who was that?””
He put the phone away.
“Someone who knows about Project Mirror.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
“Stop saying that.””
He looked at me.
“You want the truth?””
“Yes.””
“Then we have to leave this house.””
“Why?””
“Because this isn't about your mother anymore.””
I stared at him.
“What is Project Mirror?””
He hesitated.
“An operation.””
“Military?””
“Originally.””
“Originally?””
“It started as a witness-protection program connected to military intelligence.””
My stomach tightened.
“Witness protection?””
“Yes.””
“For whom?””
“People who had information someone powerful wanted buried.””
“And the woman who looked like me?””
Mercer nodded.
“She was part of it.””
“Why did she look like me?””
“We don't know.””
“You do know.””
He looked at the floor.
“She was a biological relative.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
“We ran DNA after your father demanded it.””
“Whose DNA?””
“Yours.””
“And hers?””
Mercer nodded.
“Related.””
“How closely?””
He swallowed.
“Half-siblings.””
The room seemed to tilt.
Chloe whispered, “Rachel…”
I couldn't speak.
A woman who looked like me.
A woman who had appeared in my father's study.
A woman connected to Project Mirror.
My half-sister.
I looked toward the staircase.
“Who was her father?””
Mercer didn't answer.
I already knew.
“No.””
His silence confirmed it.
“My father?””
“Yes.””
I backed against the counter.
“No.””
Mercer continued quietly.
“Robert had another daughter.””
Chloe stared at him.
“That means…”
“Yes.””
She looked at me.
“She was our sister.””
The word hurt in a way I couldn't explain.
Another daughter.
Another girl.
Another secret.
My father had known.
My mother had known.
And I'd spent twelve years believing Dad had simply let me disappear.
“What's her name?””
Mercer shook his head.
“Her birth records were altered.””
“Then what did Dad call her?””
“Anna.””
I closed my eyes.
Anna.
The name felt strangely familiar.
I searched my memory.
There had been a girl at school when I was little.
Older than me.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
She used to sit alone near the playground.
I remembered asking Mom who she was.
Mom had answered, “Nobody important.””
My eyes opened.
“Anna Mercer?””
Mercer stiffened.
“You know that name?””
“I remember a girl.””
He stared at me.
“Where?””
“Elementary school.””
“When?””
“Before I left.””
His expression darkened.
“That wasn't her real name.””
“Was she following me?””
“No.””
“Then why was she there?””
Mercer didn't answer.
Chloe suddenly pointed at the recorder.
“Play it.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“The recording.””
Mercer pressed play.
Static.
Then Dad's voice.
“Rachel, if you're hearing this, I failed to protect you.””
My throat tightened.
“I need you to understand something. Your mother didn't create the lie alone.””
I froze.
Dad continued.
“She was afraid. So was I.””
A pause.
“The woman you knew as Anna was my daughter.””
I looked at Chloe.
The recording continued.
“She was born before I met your mother. Her mother died when Anna was eleven. I tried to bring her into our family.””
My mother's face flashed through my memory.
Her fury whenever Dad mentioned his past.
“She had been placed into Project Mirror after witnessing something she wasn't supposed to see.””
The recording crackled.
“Someone inside the program discovered she was my daughter.””
My breathing stopped.
“And they discovered something else.””
The audio cut out.
I hit the recorder.
“Come on.””
Static.
Nothing.
Mercer looked at the device.
“The file is damaged.””
“No.””
I shook it.
“No, no.””
Dad's voice returned for half a second.
“Rachel, the person responsible is—”
Static.
Then silence.
I stared at the recorder.
“The person responsible is who?””
Mercer didn't answer.
Chloe stepped closer.
“Can you recover it?””
“Maybe.””
He took the recorder.
“We need another system.””
I looked at the study.
Dad's computer was still running.
I hurried upstairs.
The screen had changed.
The Project Mirror folder was gone.
Every file was gone.
The screen displayed one message.
*ACCESS REVOKED.*
I felt something inside me break.
“They're deleting everything.””
Mercer looked over my shoulder.
“They already know.””
“Who?””
Before he could answer, my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
*You want to know what happened on August 17?*
I stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
*Come alone to the old train station. Midnight.*
Then:
*Bring the brass key.*
Mercer read the messages.
“Absolutely not.””
I looked at him.
“Why?””
“Because it's a trap.””
“Probably.””
“You can't go.””
“I have to.””
“No.””
“My whole life was built around a lie.””
“That's exactly why they want you emotional.””
I looked at Chloe.
“They threatened her.””
“And you think walking into a trap will help?””
“No.””
I slipped the phone into my pocket.
“But whoever sent that message knows what happened.””
Mercer shook his head.
“They may know where Anna is.””
That stopped me.
“Anna is alive?””
“I don't know.””
“Then we find out.””
Mercer stared at me.
“You're your father's daughter.””
For the first time, there was something like respect in his voice.
I looked down at the brass key.
Dad had left it to me for a reason.
And suddenly I understood.
May you like
It wasn't meant to open the study.
It was meant to open whatever came next.
