Chapter 4 - The Man in the Camera.
Luka did not reach for the gun.
“The case was empty when I carried it out.”
“That was not my question.”
“No, Nora.”
His eyes never left mine.
“I did not consent to any child being created.”
June slowly moved between the bassinet and the line of fire.
Luka explained that Morrow had collected his blood and reproductive tissue after a stabbing eight years earlier.
The surgeon who saved him worked for Eleanor Cross.
Six weeks ago, an anonymous message warned him that a sample labeled LM-04 had been assigned to Protocol M-17.
He broke into the clinic to recover it.
The container was already empty.
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“I learned your name that night.”
“You watched me for six weeks and said nothing.”
“I had men outside your house.”
“That is not better.”
His jaw tightened.
“Your father died trying to expose Morrow, and I would not approach you until I knew whether Grant was watching for me.”
I lowered the gun but did not forgive him.
June found a second encrypted folder on Ava's chip.
It contained prenatal blood tests I had never authorized.
Every result labeled me SUBJECT M-17 and my daughter PRODUCT M-17B.
The word product made me sick.
I held Ava closer and counted each warm breath against my neck.
She liked to curl her left hand beneath her chin.
She quieted when I hummed the song my father once sang to me.
Those ordinary details were proof that no code could describe her.
I promised her in a whisper that she would grow up knowing her body belonged only to her.
“What were they trying to create?”
Luka opened a paper file he had stolen from Morrow.
“A child with two rare immune markers that have never appeared together naturally.”
One marker belonged to my maternal bloodline.
The other had been found in Luka's family.
Together, Morrow believed they could produce cells capable of repairing aggressive immune disorders.
The discovery would be worth billions.
My daughter was not a patient to them.
She was a patent.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Three slow taps followed by two quick ones.
Luka checked the security screen.
Police officers crowded the sidewalk beside two child welfare investigators.
At the rear entrance, men without uniforms were cutting the alarm wires.
“Grant found us,” June said.
Luka handed me a small canvas bag.
Inside were cash, identification papers, and a key bearing the number seventeen.
“The roof connects to the building next door.”
“What about you?”
“They came for me first.”
The front door shook under a metal ram.
I wrapped Ava beneath my coat.
“I am tired of men deciding where I go.”
Luka met my eyes.
“Then choose.”
I chose the roof because staying alive was not surrender.
June followed me across the rain-slicked boards between the buildings.
Below us, police entered the brownstone.
Luka remained in the kitchen with his hands visible.
Grant stepped through the broken doorway before the officers did.
He looked directly at the hidden roof camera.
“Find my wife.”
Vivian appeared beside him holding a tablet.
On its screen was an official birth record bearing Ava's photograph.
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The baby's face in the picture was not my daughter's.
Beside it, a court order declared that the real Ava Hale was already in Grant's custody.
