Chapter 141 The dead woman

Chapter 141 The dead woman
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-One: The Dead Woman

Nobody spoke for several seconds after the message appeared.

Sophia Reed died nine years ago.

Someone wants us to believe she came back.

The words hung over the room like a storm cloud.

After everything we’d uncovered tonight, a dead woman returning from the grave should have sounded ridiculous.

Instead, it sounded possible.

That was the frightening part.

The deeper we went into Eleanor’s secrets, the less impossible anything seemed.

Dominic was staring at the photograph as if it might suddenly disappear.

“It’s her.”

His voice was quiet.

Certain.

“Absolutely her.”

Gabriel folded his arms.

“You said you watched her die.”

“I did.”

“Then explain this.”

Dominic looked away from the screen.

His expression darkened.

“I can’t.”

The honesty surprised everyone.

Dominic usually had answers.

Or at least acted like he did.

Seeing him genuinely confused made the situation feel even more dangerous.

Jonathan enlarged the image again.

The woman stepped out of a black sedan, surrounded by two security personnel.

Nothing about her looked unusual.

She appeared calm.

Professional.

Ordinary.

Yet somehow she had become the most alarming person in the room.

“Tell us about her,” Liam said.

Dominic remained silent for a moment.

Then nodded.

“Sophia was Alexander’s favorite child.”

The room went still.

Child.

Not daughter.

Child.

The wording felt deliberate.

Important.

Gabriel noticed it too.

“Favorite child?”

Dominic nodded.

“There were others.”

A chill swept through the vault.

Of course there were.

Every answer created three more questions.

“How many?” Ruth asked.

“I don’t know.”

Dominic rubbed his forehead.

“Alexander kept his family hidden from almost everyone.”

The terminal flashed.

A new message appeared.

Five.

Everyone looked at the screen.

Five children.

Not one.

Not two.

Five.

The terminal continued.

Three sons.

Two daughters.

Nobody moved.

Because suddenly Alexander Reed seemed less like a scientist and more like a king building a dynasty.

“What happened to them?” Clara asked.

The answer appeared almost immediately.

Two confirmed dead.

One missing.

One unknown.

A pause.

Then:

One active.

The photograph remained on the screen.

Nobody needed clarification.

Sophia.

Or whoever was pretending to be Sophia.

Gabriel stared at the terminal.

“Why are you helping us?”

The question escaped before anyone else could ask it.

The screen remained still for several seconds.

Then a response appeared.

Because Eleanor was correct.

Nobody spoke.

The message continued.

I should have acted sooner.

That caught everyone’s attention.

The words sounded almost like regret.

Almost.

Then another line appeared.

My delay created opportunities for others.

A terrible feeling settled in my stomach.

Others.

Plural.

Not one enemy.

Multiple.

The room remained silent as the implication spread.

Subject Zero wasn’t the only person moving pieces on the board.

There were other players now.

And apparently he had lost track of some of them.

That should have been reassuring.

Instead, it was terrifying.

Because if someone this intelligent could lose control of the situation, what chance did anyone else have?

Jonathan clicked another file.

The photograph disappeared.

A profile opened.

Information filled the screen.

Dates.

Locations.

Transactions.

Travel records.

Most were linked to Sophia Reed.

Or the person claiming to be her.

Then Jonathan stopped scrolling.

His face immediately changed.

“What?”

Nina asked.

He pointed toward a section near the bottom.

A meeting log.

Recent.

Very recent.

Only three weeks old.

The room leaned closer.

A list of attendees appeared.

Several names were blacked out.

Others weren’t.

One name made my blood run cold.

Liam saw it at the same moment.

“No.”

The word escaped him immediately.

Clara looked confused.

“What?”

Liam pointed.

His finger trembled slightly.

“There.”

The room followed his gaze.

And froze.

Because sitting in the middle of the attendee list was a name we all recognized.

Maya Carter

For a moment I genuinely thought I had stopped breathing.

My name.

My actual name.

Written in a meeting record connected to Sophia Reed.

Connected to Genesis.

Connected to whatever nightmare we had just uncovered.

The room turned toward me.

Every single person.

Including me.

Because I was just as shocked as they were.

“What?”

The word came out weakly.

Confused.

Panicked.

“I’ve never met her.”

Nobody accused me.

Not yet.

But the tension was immediate.

Dangerous.

Jonathan checked the file again.

Then another.

Then another.

His expression grew increasingly disturbed.

“Maya.”

I looked at him.

“What?”

He swallowed.

Hard.

“Your name appears six times.”

The room fell silent.

Six times.

Not once.

Not twice.

Six.

My stomach dropped.

“That’s impossible.”

The terminal flashed.

A new message appeared.

Agreed.

Everyone turned toward the screen.

The message continued.

The records are fabricated.

Relief washed through me instantly.

Briefly.

Then vanished.

Because if someone was creating fake records using my name, that raised a different problem.

A much worse problem.

Why?

The screen answered before anyone could ask.

Someone is constructing a narrative.

Gabriel immediately understood.

His face hardened.

“A scapegoat.”

The word settled heavily over the room.

A scapegoat.

Someone to blame.

Someone to frame.

Someone to sacrifice.

And apparently that someone was me.

Clara looked furious.

“Who would do that?”

The terminal remained silent.

For the first time in a while, no answer appeared.

Then finally:

Unknown.

A pause.

But I have a theory.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

The screen displayed another photograph.

This one was grainy.

Taken from a distance.

A security camera image.

A woman entering a building.

The quality was terrible.

Yet the moment I saw her, something felt familiar.

Uncomfortably familiar.

Then Clara gasped.

“Oh my God.”

My pulse quickened.

“What?”

She pointed toward the screen.

“Look closer.”

Jonathan enlarged the image.

The woman became clearer.

Not perfectly clear.

But clear enough.

And suddenly I understood why she looked familiar.

The resemblance was undeniable.

Not identical.

But close.

Very close.

The woman looked like me.

The room froze.

Not exactly like me.

Different eyes.

Different posture.

Different age, maybe.

But similar enough to cause problems.

Similar enough to fool people.

Similar enough to create false records.

Ruth looked horrified.

“That’s not a coincidence.”

Nobody disagreed.

The terminal flashed again.

One final message appeared beneath the image.

Sophia Reed spent two years searching for her.

Silence.

Then another line.

Three weeks ago she found her.

The room seemed to stop moving.

Stop breathing.

Stop existing.

Because we all knew what that meant.

Someone who looked like me.

Someone Sophia wanted.

Someone important enough to spend years searching for.

Then the final sentence appeared.

The sentence that made every person in the vault go completely still.

Her name is Evelyn Carter.###