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Chapter 16
Last Updated:
2025-05-16 18:38:51---
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Chapter 16: Buried Truths
The quiet in the storage unit pressed in on Isla, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioner. But inside her chest, her heart pounded so loud she thought it might burst. Her hands hesitated above the last box, tucked away in the darkest corner, coated in dust like it hadn’t been touched in years.
There was something about this box. Something fragile. Something almost off-limits.
Still, she reached for it.
The cardboard groaned softly as she peeled back the flaps, revealing a pile of faded photographs, yellowed letters, and notebooks worn thin with age. The scent that rose up—musty, but with a hint of old perfume—hit her like a punch.
Aurelia.
Her mother-in-law. The woman whose name wasn’t spoken lightly in the family.
But what froze Isla’s fingers was the photo resting on top. Faded but clear enough to show three figures: a woman, sharp and unyielding, clutching a man whose eyes gave nothing away. Between them, a child, maybe four or five, with soft features.
And the eyes—
The same storm-gray eyes as Christopher.
Her breath caught. The air thickened.
There was no date on the photo. No note. Just a silent, accusing stare.
Aurelia. Ethan. And a child Isla never knew existed.
She forced herself to keep looking.
Behind the photo, a folded paper slipped out. She unfolded it carefully, pulse racing.
Subject-317. Reassigned after disappearance. No recovery. Presumed dead. Terminated under Protocol-9. No further questions.
The paper dropped from her hands. She staggered back like she’d touched a live wire.
This wasn’t just family secrets. This was something darker. Something dangerous.
She fled the unit clutching the photo like a lifeline, vision swimming with questions she couldn’t yet ask.
The ride home blurred. The photo sat next to her, quiet and accusing.
When she stepped into the house, the air felt different—colder, heavier. The hallways stretched longer, shadows deepening.
She found Christopher where she expected him—in his study, the amber light catching the bourbon glass in his hand. He didn’t turn immediately.
“I found this,” she said, voice steady but tight.
Slowly, he turned, eyes flicking from her to the photo. Silence hung between them.
“You knew about this,” she said.
“I suspected,” he replied quietly. “But no one had permission to see it.”
Her hand extended the photo, sharp as a blade. “Who is this?”
Christopher’s face tightened, the mask slipping. Just for a moment.
“I don’t know,” he said, and the lie was thin.
“Don’t do that. Not now,” she said, voice breaking.
He met her eyes, the weight in them nearly shattering her.
“That boy,” he said, voice rough, “he was my half-brother. Aurelia and Ethan’s son.”
Isla blinked. “Aurelia had a child before me?”
“Years before,” Christopher said. “No one talks about him because he disappeared. Officially, they say he died. But I don’t believe it.”
“And Ethan?”
“He was part of the government, handling… sensitive operations. Aurelia wasn’t just his wife. She was an asset. Their marriage was a cover. The child was never meant to be love—it was control. An experiment.”
Her skin prickled. “They experimented on him?”
“Genetics, psychological conditioning. The stuff you saw in Aurelia’s journals—it was real.”
Isla shook her head, struggling to breathe. “Then why hide all this?”
“Because the boy was erased. Wiped off the books. Ethan left after that. Aurelia… she never recovered.”
Isla sank into the couch, the photo heavy in her lap. “Why did she take me in?”
Christopher’s voice was a whisper. “You reminded her of something she lost. Maybe of who that boy could’ve been.”
Her throat tightened. “Do you think I’m connected to all this?”
“We both are,” he said.
The room fell silent but for the ticking clock.
Isla stared at the photo again, then whispered, “What does this mean… for us?”
Christopher stepped closer, voice low and steady. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is what we do now.”
His hand brushed her cheek, warm and trembling. “I never planned to fall for you.”
“But you did.”
“Yes. And I’d do it again. Even if it destroys us.”
She kissed him—deep, desperate, all the fear and secrets spilling out between them.
When they pulled apart, she rested against him, breath shaky.
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “We need to find out what happened to him.”
Isla’s voice was barely a whisper. “I think… he’s still out there. Because when I looked in those eyes… I saw myself.”
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