Arca personnel records.
Old news clippings.
And more.
“These are my parents’ personnel files,” I said, scanning the first page. “My father’s work history… it matches what he told me. Honorably discharged twenty-seven years ago. Opened Family Gynecology in Falcon City. And here’s my mom. She taught at Falcon City Elementary. See—look at the picture. That’s her!”
“On the surface, the files look ordinary,” Cade said. “But I dug deeper, and they are not.”
My head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“It took a while, but I realized both of the files entered the system twenty-six years ago. I can’t find anything from before that.” Cade leaned forward, tapping the paper. “At first, I thought they were file updates. But they weren't. They were new entries disguised as updates.”
My pulse quickened.
“Whoever did it was good,” he continued. “Someone who knew how to manipulate the Arca database. They gave your parents completely new identities. Flip the page.”
I flipped it—
And froze.
A photo of my father stared back at me, but it wasn’t him. Or… it was him, just younger. Smooth skin. Dark hair. No glasses. A stranger wearing my father’s face. The same strange version of himself from the old photo.
But the name…
“Dr. Alexander Russell. Deceased," I read aloud, my voicecatching. “Who is this?”
“Thatwasyour father,” Cade said gently. “Before he became Dr. Aiden Mills. He was one of the medical doctors assigned to Project Flame. Thirty-three years old at the time. His specialty was gynecology. His file stated he died in the medical wing fire, along with Dr. Melker, and several other research and medical assistants. We now know that's not entirely true.”
My stomach twisted.
“Likely, Melker brought him in to monitor…” Cade flipped back to the front of the file and tapped Patient Zero’s photo. “Her.”
“Because she was pregnant,” I whispered, trying to make the pieces fit.
Ryker lifted another file, eyebrows raised. “Okay then… who the hell is this woman? Because she is definitely not your mom.”
I snatched the file and scanned it.
“This looks like the pictures my dad showed me, but the name isn't hers… My mother’s name was Isabel. My dad always told me that my middle name was Isabel, because he named me after her!” I said sharply. “Not Rose. Who is this?”
“That's the point,” Cade said. “Your mother’s file is fake too. Here is the real woman whose likeness was used for your mother's personnel record and whose face you've been picturing.”
He slid another printout across the table.
“Alice Rose Rutridge. Beta. She lives in Yukon City. Alive and well. Works as a teller at Arca Bank. Husband. Three kids. Verified.”
My heart stopped.
So even my mother's face—the face I hadimagined time and time again, holding me, singing softly to me, comforting me when everything felt overwhelming—eventhatwas a lie. It belonged to someone else. A fabricated identity so I would buy the story my father told me.
My eyes swept across the table and caught on the photo of Patient Zero.
Her wide eyes, hollow and exhausted.
Her swollen belly, ready to burst.
Ready to have a baby.
