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Chapter 17
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2025-05-16 18:50:17Chapter 17: Echoes Beneath the Surface
Isla lay awake in the darkness, the weight of the night pressing against her chest. Next to her, Christopher’s steady breathing was a faint comfort—warm and familiar—but her mind raced, tangled in the questions that wouldn’t let her rest.
That photo haunted her still—the child’s face, the eyes so much like her own. It felt like a secret screaming just beneath the surface.
She slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb him, and pulled on one of Christopher’s oversized shirts. The fabric smelled faintly of him, grounding her as she moved through the silent hallways of the estate. The house felt too quiet, as if the walls themselves held their breath, whispering names and memories she barely understood.
In the library, she found the black-bound journals, the ones Aurelia had hidden away. These weren’t the neat, polished stories meant for public eyes — these were raw, stained with grief and fear. Tucked inside was a note, like a warning:
“Some memories cut deeper than wounds. Be careful what you seek.”
Her hands trembled as she turned the fragile pages. Most of it was clinical—notes, chemical formulas, numbers. Then, on one page, a single line broke through everything:
“317 laughed. Called me Mama. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Isla’s breath caught. The number again — the boy from the photo.
The entry continued: Aurelia wrote of holding him, of knowing the cost if anyone found out. She wrote of love. Of loss. Of screaming until her own name was lost in the chaos.
Isla sank to the floor, clutching the journal like a lifeline. This wasn’t just a cold experiment. This was heartbreak. Real and raw.
A soft creak pulled her attention.
Christopher stood in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes, wearing only loose sweatpants. His voice was low and rough.
“You found her secret.”
Isla nodded. “She loved him.”
“I know,” he said, stepping closer. “But that love was dangerous.”
“Why hide it?”
“Because if Ethan had known... no one would have been safe.”
Isla’s voice was barely a whisper. “She said he felt — the boy. He was more than data.”
Christopher’s eyes darkened. “And that’s why they erased him.”
She looked up at him. “Do you think I’m connected? To him?”
He didn’t hesitate. Pulling a USB from his pocket, he held it out.
“I’ve kept this for you. Files Ethan never wanted anyone to see.”
Isla’s fingers brushed over the small device. “Why now?”
“Because you’re ready. Because I trust you.”
She felt a sharp ache in her chest.
“I was scared to tell you. Scared you’d run.”
Isla’s voice was steady. “I’m not her. I’m not afraid.”
Christopher’s hand found hers, warm and sure.
“I love you,” he said simply.
No pretense. No doubts.
Isla leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, steady kiss. It wasn’t a flame; it was a tether—something to hold onto in the swirling storm of secrets.
That night, they didn’t seek passion. They found strength—in the quiet, shared between two people bound by more than just love.
---
Morning came too soon.
Isla copied the USB files to her laptop, scrolling through encrypted logs marked Project 317: Termination Protocol. Her heart skipped when she found a last note:
“Subject relocated. Memory suppression incomplete. Emotional response detected.”
And a name: Ronan Vale.
She called out, breath sharp, “Christopher!”
He appeared beside her instantly. She showed him the screen.
“That’s not a termination. That’s a transfer.”
Christopher’s face went pale. “Ronan Vale… he runs a private security group, shadows connected to the government. If it’s him, he’s more than alive. He’s hidden in plain sight.”
Isla’s fingers trembled as she highlighted coordinates deep in Quebec’s forests.
“What if he’s been watching us all this time?” she whispered.
“We find him,” Christopher said firmly.
The photo of the boy burned in her mind.
She swallowed hard. “What if I’m not just related? What if I’m… part of him? A second chance?”
Christopher’s eyes searched hers, heavy with unspoken fears.
“We go to Quebec. We find the truth.”
Her heart thundered.
“And then,” she said, “we end it.”
---
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