Chapter 2 - The Missing Hours
Luka pushed my wheelchair through a service corridor beneath the maternity floor.
I hated that I was following him.
I hated even more that staying behind suddenly felt more dangerous.
My daughter slept inside a clear hospital bassinet beside us.
Her temporary bracelet identified her as BABY GIRL COLE.
I stared at the name until it made me angry.
Ethan had not earned it.
“Where are we going?”
“Private discharge exit.”
“I haven’t been discharged.”
“You will be.”
“That isn’t how hospitals work.”
“Today isn’t working like a hospital.”
Luka stopped outside an elevator.
He pressed a keycard against the panel.
The doors opened.
“How do you have that?”
“My company installed this hospital’s security system three years ago.”
“You own a security company?”
“One of several businesses.”
I stared at him.
“You sound like a criminal.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
The elevator descended.
When the doors opened again, Luka pushed me into an underground parking level.
A black SUV waited near a concrete pillar.
A woman in a gray suit stood beside it.
She looked about forty.
Sharp eyes.
Short dark hair.
No smile.
“This is Mara Quinn.”
Luka said.
“She was your father’s attorney.”
My entire body went cold.
“My father sold insurance.”
Mara looked at me.
“No, Clara.”
My name sounded strange in her voice.
“Your father worked for a biomedical research company called Meridian Dynamics.”
I shook my head.
“That’s impossible.”
“He wanted you to believe it was impossible.”
“Why?”
Mara opened the SUV door.
“Because he was trying to keep you alive.”
I stared at her.
“Stop talking like this.”
Mara reached into a leather folder.
She removed a photograph.
My father stood beside three men in white laboratory coats.
One of them was Luka.
He looked much younger.
But it was him.
I looked from the photograph to Luka.
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since I was seventeen.”
Luka’s voice had changed.
My father was no longer an abstract secret to him.
He was personal.
“Daniel Carter saved my life.”
I looked again at the photograph.
There was a date written on the back.
May 14, 2011.
Five years before my father’s supposed death.
“What was Meridian?”
Mara answered.
“A private genetics company that developed experimental therapies for inherited blood disorders.”
“That doesn’t explain me.”
“No.”
She hesitated.
“It explains your mother.”
My mother had died giving birth to me.
At least that was what I had been told.
“What about her?”
Mara reached for another paper.
Her hands were steady.
Her voice was not.
“Your mother was patient M-17.”
The parking garage seemed to tilt around me.
Luka caught the wheelchair before it moved.
“No.”
I whispered.
“My mother’s name was Elena.”
“Yes.”
Mara said.
“Elena Carter.”
“But inside Meridian, she was M-17.”
My daughter made a tiny sound.
Mara looked at her.
“And according to what we found this morning, your daughter has inherited the marker Meridian spent twenty-five years searching for.”
A sound echoed from the far end of the garage.
A door slammed.
Luka immediately stepped in front of me.
Two men entered the parking level.
Neither wore hospital uniforms.
One raised a phone and photographed us.
Luka cursed under his breath.
“Get Clara into the car.”
Mara moved quickly.
Before I could ask anything else, Luka turned toward the men.
One of them called across the garage.
“Mr. Moretti.”
Luka stopped.
“We only want the child.”
My blood turned to ice.
Luka’s answer was quiet.
“You’re going to leave without her.”
The man smiled.
“That isn’t your decision.”
Luka slowly rolled up his sleeves.
The tattoos on his forearms became visible.
Then I saw something I hadn’t noticed before.
On his left wrist was a small black symbol.
M-17.
And suddenly I understood.
May you like
Luka was not only connected to my mother’s secret.
He had been part of it too.
