Chapter 9: The Daughter Who Wasn't Supposed to Exist
“I was never your sister.””
Zena said it again, but this time her voice was barely more than air.
The screen above us still displayed the result.
*NORA HART — MATCH: 100%*
*ZENA HART — MATCH: 0%*
Nobody in the gate area moved.
Nobody even seemed to breathe.
I looked at my sister.
At the woman who had shared my bedroom for twenty-four years.
The woman who knew how I took my coffee.
Who had slept beside me in the hospital when Dad got sick.
Who had held my hand at Mom's funeral.
Who had once crossed three states because I'd called her at two in the morning and said I couldn't be alone.
“You're my sister,” I said.
Zena shook her head.
“Not by blood.””
“That's not the same thing.””
“It is to them.””
She pointed at the screen.
“They've been looking for me.””
Martin Reese stepped closer.
“No.””
Zena turned.
“No?””
“They've been looking for both of you.””
“But the result says—”
“The result has been manipulated before.””
Daniel stared at the screen.
“Martin's right.””
I looked at him.
“You said the test was real.””
“It is.””
“Then how can it be manipulated?””
“Because they may not have tested Zena.””
Zena's eyes narrowed.
“What?””
Daniel walked toward the terminal console.
“This system is connected to the airport's biometric database.””
“So?””
“So whoever uploaded the profile could have substituted another sample.””
I looked at the screen.
“You're saying the result could be fake?””
“No.””
Daniel shook his head.
“I'm saying it could be someone else's truth.””
Zena's face tightened.
“Then prove it.””
Daniel nodded.
“I will.””
He turned toward the security officers.
“Bring me a sealed DNA collection kit.””
One officer hesitated.
“Sir, that's not standard airport procedure.””
“Today is no longer standard.””
The officer ran.
Grant suddenly spoke.
“You don't have time.””
Daniel looked at him.
“For what?””
Grant pointed toward the departure board.
“Flight 882.””
The timer beneath the flight number had changed.
*00:02:14*
Two minutes.
Until departure.
Daniel swore.
“Why is the aircraft still showing ready?””
“Because someone is overriding the hold.””
Grant looked at me.
“They're trying to get one person onto that plane.””
“Who?””
He didn't answer.
Zena did.
“Me.””
Grant nodded.
“Yes.””
I stared at him.
“Why?””
“Because your mother protected you.””
“And not her?””
Grant looked at Zena.
“They believe she is the key.””
“To what?””
“Project Lantern.””
Zena stepped toward him.
“You keep saying that name.””
“I know.””
“What is Lantern really?””
Grant's eyes moved toward Daniel.
“Tell her.””
Daniel's expression became grim.
“I can't.””
“You have to.””
Daniel looked at Zena.
“Project Lantern was never about replacing identities.””
“Then what was it?””
Daniel hesitated.
“It was about creating them.””
The words hung in the air.
Grant nodded.
“People with no history.””
Zena stared.
“People who could become anyone.””
“Exactly.””
She looked at the DNA result.
“Then why do they think I matter?””
Grant took a breath.
“Because your original identity was never destroyed.””
My skin prickled.
“What does that mean?””
“It means they couldn't erase you.””
Zena shook her head.
“I still don't understand.””
Grant looked at her.
“Because you weren't supposed to be born.””
Silence.
I grabbed his sleeve.
“Explain.””
He looked at me.
“Twenty-four years ago, your mother discovered that Project Lantern had created an illegal identity for a child.””
“Whose child?””
Grant's voice dropped.
“Yours.””
I stared.
“What?””
He pointed at Zena.
“Zena was the identity.””
I felt a chill.
“Not the person?””
“The identity.””
He continued.
“A birth certificate. Social security number. medical history.
school records. Everything.””
Zena whispered, “For a child who didn't exist?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did I?””
Grant swallowed.
“Because your mother took the identity and gave it to a real child.””
“To me?””
“No.””
He looked at Zena.
“To her.””
The room seemed to tilt again.
Zena stepped backward.
“So I was given someone else's identity?””
“Yes.””
“Whose?””
Grant shook his head.
“We don't know.””
Daniel interrupted.
“We do.””
Everyone looked at him.
He reached into the metal box and removed the folded sheet of paper we'd ignored.
He unfolded it.
There were two columns.
One said *ORIGINAL*.
The other said *ASSIGNED*.
Beside Zena’s name was another name.
*AMELIA VALE.*
I read it aloud.
“Amelia Vale.””
Grant's face went white.
Daniel looked at him.
“You know that name.””
Grant didn't answer.
“Grant.””
He looked at me.
“Amelia was Martin Vale's daughter.””
Zena went still.
“Martin's daughter?””
“Yes.””
“What happened to her?””
Grant looked away.
“She died.””
“When?””
“Twenty-four years ago.””
Zena stared at the paper.
“I was given the identity of a dead girl?””
Grant nodded.
My stomach turned.
“Why would my mother do that?””
“To save Zena.””
“From what?””
Grant looked at the airport windows.
“Martin's daughter wasn't supposed to die.””
Nobody spoke.
He continued.
“She was murdered because her father discovered what Lantern was doing.””
Daniel closed his eyes.
“And Evelyn found her body.””
Zena whispered, “So Mom stole her identity?””
“She borrowed it.””
“That's supposed to make it better?””
“No.””
Grant shook his head.
“But your mother had two choices.””
“What choices?””
“Let Lantern take you.””
He looked at Zena.
“Or make you disappear.””
Zena’s breathing quickened.
“And Nora?””
Grant looked at me.
“Your mother needed someone whose identity was clean.””
My heart sank.
“She used me.””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“She protected you.””
Daniel stepped closer.
“Nora was born with the Hart identity.””
“Then why was Zena given Amelia's?””
“Because Martin was looking for his daughter's killer.””
I understood.
“Wait.””
I looked between them.
“Martin knew Amelia died.””
“Yes.””
“But he thought Zena was Amelia.””
“Yes.””
I felt sick.
“So Mom let Martin believe Zena was his dead daughter?””
Grant nodded.
“That was the only way to keep him from searching for the child who knew too much.””
“What did Zena know?””
Grant didn't answer.
Zena's face went pale.
“I was a baby.””
“You were.””
“Then why was I dangerous?””
Grant stared at her.
“Because you weren't the dangerous part.””
“Then what was?””
He looked at the brass compass.
“The compass.””
I opened my hand.
Grant took one step back.
“Your mother hid something in it.””
“I know.””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“You found the key.””
I looked at the compass.
“What did we miss?””
Grant whispered,
“The original coordinates.””
Daniel suddenly moved.
“Everybody down!””
The sound of a gunshot exploded through the terminal.
Glass shattered above us.
Passengers screamed.
I dropped behind the counter as Daniel tackled Zena to the floor.
A second shot cracked.
The departure board went black.
Security officers rushed toward the windows.
Martin pulled me away from the gate.
“Stay down!””
I looked toward the airport entrance.
A figure stood beyond the glass.
Dark coat.
Face concealed.
A rifle resting against the shoulder.
Then he turned.
Not toward us.
Toward the aircraft.
Another shot.
The plane's windshield cracked.
Daniel shouted into his radio.
“Seal the runway!””
The figure disappeared.
Zena crawled toward me.
“Are you hurt?””
“No.””
She looked at my hand.
The compass was still there.
Then I noticed something.
The needle wasn't pointing north.
It was pointing toward the floor.
I frowned.
“Zena.””
She looked.
The needle trembled.
Then stopped.
Directly over the center of the terminal.
Daniel saw it.
“What is it?””
“I don't know.””
Martin did.
His face went white.
“That's where they buried the original.””
“What original?””
He looked at Zena.
“The first Lantern archive.””
Daniel stared at him.
“That's impossible.””
Martin shook his head.
“No.””
He pointed beneath the floor.
“Terminal Four was built over the old archive.””
Zena looked at the compass.
“Then why did Mom send us here?””
Martin answered.
“Because she knew they would come for you.””
The emergency lights flickered.
A hidden section of floor clicked.
A rectangular seam appeared beneath the carpet.
Everyone stared.
Daniel slowly crouched.
He pulled the carpet away.
A steel door was underneath.
No handle.
Just a circular indentation.
The size of my compass.
I looked at Zena.
She looked at me.
Then I pressed the compass into the indentation.
Click.
The steel door unlocked.
We lifted it.
A narrow staircase descended into darkness.
Cold air rose from below.
And on the first step lay a photograph.
I picked it up.
It showed my mother.
Dad.
A newborn baby.
And beside them…
a third woman.
Not the twin.
Not Amelia.
A woman I'd never seen.
On the back of the photograph, my mother's handwriting said:
*This is the woman who gave birth to Zena.*
Zena's face went blank.
“What?””
I turned the photograph over again.
Below the sentence was a name.
*Sarah Whitmore.*
Daniel froze.
“My mother.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He stared at the photograph as though he had been punched.
“Sarah Whitmore was my mother.””
Zena whispered, “Then she was my—”
Daniel nodded.
“Your birth mother.””
The airport lights suddenly came back on.
Every screen in the terminal lit up at once.
One message appeared.
*WELCOME HOME, AMELIA.*
Zena stepped backward.
“No.””
Another message replaced it.
*PROJECT LANTERN HAS LOCATED ITS MISSING DAUGHTER.*
Then a third.
*SUBJECT ZENA WHITMORE: RECOVERY AUTHORIZED.*
Daniel looked at Zena.
And for the first time, I saw terror in his eyes.
Because the sister I had spent my entire life protecting had just been identified by the system as someone else's daughter.
May you like
Someone who had supposedly died twenty-four years ago.
And from somewhere beneath the airport floor, a phone began to ring.
