Chapter 3 - The Truth in the Files
The voice shouting from the porch belonged to my estranged husband, Mark.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before dropping the knife and rushing to unlock the deadbolt.
Mark practically fell into the hallway, his clothes torn and his face covered in dark bruises.
He quickly pushed the door shut and locked it, leaning against it while gasping for breath.
I stared at him in absolute shock, demanding to know what was happening and who was chasing him.
He looked up, his eyes widening in pure terror when he saw the baby resting quietly on the sofa.
He ran his trembling hands through his hair, muttering that I should have never given those baby supplies to the homeless woman.
I yelled at him to make sense, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to look at me.
Mark confessed that the homeless woman was not actually a beggar.
She was Dr. Evans, a whistleblower who had been hiding on the streets to avoid being murdered by the hospital administration.
He admitted that he had known Noah was not dead all along.
My entire world shattered in an instant as his words echoed in the quiet living room.
He explained that the hospital was running a massive black-market genetic harvesting operation for elite, wealthy clients.
They stole healthy infants with specific genetic markers and faked their deaths to grieving parents.
The hospital administrators had threatened to torture and kill me if Mark did not abandon me and stay completely silent.
He had left me two weeks ago to protect my life, playing the role of the broken husband.
But Dr. Evans could not live with the guilt and had used the baby supplies I gave her to smuggle Noah back to me.
I looked from my husband to the sleeping baby, feeling a dangerous mix of absolute rage and profound relief.
I told Mark that we needed to take the files, grab the baby, and go to the FBI immediately.
Mark shook his head, tears welling in his eyes as he looked out the living room window.
He whispered that the police were already on the hospital's payroll and nobody could be trusted.
Suddenly, the power in the house completely cut out, plunging us into total darkness.
The heavy sound of combat boots crunched against the gravel on the side of our house.
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I looked at Mark, noticing a bright red laser dot slowly moving across his chest in the dark.
Before I could scream his name, the front window shattered inward.
