Chapter 184 Chapter Eighty-Nine: The Destruction Of The Thornes (Part 3).

Chapter 184 Chapter Eighty-Nine: The Destruction Of The Thornes (Part 3).
Chapter Eighty-Nine: The Destruction Of The Thornes (Part 3).

Elise Thorne sat quietly in an interrogation room at CP1. Her fingers slightly trembled as she lit her cigarette; a habit she’d broke over fifteen years when she became sober. Even through the cloud of smoke, you could see her redden eyes as the tears built up. She looked around the room, her mind racing 100mpm.

Walter walked into the room, his expression mildly compassionate. He knew being here was not an easy decision for her. The trembling of her voice from her phone call the evening prior still ringing in his ear.

The Previous Night

“How can I help you, Mrs. Thorne?”

Elise said nothing at first.

The question lingered between them, heavy and accusatory, as if the man on the other end could already sense her hesitation. What was she even doing? Had she truly reached this point? Was she really about to betray her family—her husband, her children?

Despite everything they had become, she still loved them.

That truth hurt more than any accusation ever could. She blamed herself for their selfishness, their indifference, their quiet cruelties. She had helped shape them, after all. Hadn’t she looked away when it was easier? Hadn’t she chosen silence over conflict, comfort over conscience?

But then there was Ileana.

From the moment Elise had found her again, her lost child had shown nothing but gratitude and affection. No bitterness. No resentment. Just love. And Elise had pushed her away anyway—too ashamed to face her own failures, too afraid to acknowledge what she had done. She told herself it was to protect Rachel, to avoid upsetting the balance of the family.

That was the lie.

The truth was far simpler—and far uglier. Ileana was a living reminder of everything Elise had failed to be.

Her grip tightened around the phone. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she wiped them away, forcing herself to breathe. The decision had already been made. Doubt was a luxury she could no longer afford.

“I would like to come in tomorrow,”

Elise said at last, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

“And I would like to make a formal statement.”

The line went dead.

She ended the call before she could falter—before fear could creep in, before she could change her mind, before she could be a coward.

That was it.

The Next Day

As Elise reached for the front door, Silas’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Elise!”

She paused, then slowly turned. Adjusting her sunglasses, she made sure he couldn’t see her eyes—couldn’t see the resolve hardening behind them. When she spoke, her voice was flat, stripped of emotion.

“What is it, Silas?”

He hesitated, studying her as if searching for something familiar. He knew she was still raw from everything that had unfolded over the past few days. That was why he’d slept in the guest room, why he’d given her space. There was so much left unsaid between them—so many truths hovering just beneath the surface.

Rachel was the biggest of them all.

Would Elise forgive him? She would have to. Wasn’t it better, after all, that she had raised a ‘true’ Thorne instead of some random child?

“W-Where are you going?”

he asked.

Elise considered him for a moment, then answered curtly.

“Shopping. Am I not allowed to go shopping?”

“No—no,”

Silas said quickly.

“That’s not what I meant. When you get back… we need to talk.”

A faint smile touched Elise’s lips—small, knowing, and utterly devoid of warmth.

Her gaze drifted to the entertainment room, where her three children sat sprawled on the couch, eyes fixed on the television. Laughing. Relaxed. Completely unaware. As if they weren’t responsible—directly or indirectly—for the destruction of countless lives.

Something settled inside her then.

Clarity. Certainty.

“Yes,”

Elise said softly.

“I imagine we do.”

She turned and walked out without another word, leaving Silas standing in the doorway, a quiet unease taking root in his chest—an instinctive sense that something irreversible had just begun.

\-------

Walter sat at the table, his posture rigid, eyes fixed on Elise.

“Can we get you anything?”

he asked carefully.

“Water? Something to eat—”

“No, thank you, General.”

Elise exhaled, slow and controlled.

“I’d like to get this over with. Besides, I don’t think betrayal should come with much comfort.”

The door opened behind them.

Edward stepped inside and immediately caught Walter’s eye. Walter released a quiet sigh.

“Mrs. Thorne,”

Edward began, taking a seat,

“I’m sure you feel as though you’re betraying your family, but in all honesty, you’ll be—”

“I was referring to Ileana.”

The words landed like a blow.

Walter froze. Edward’s eyes widened just slightly before he masked his reaction. The room fell into a heavy silence—one neither of them had anticipated.

Elise lowered her gaze and reached for her cigarettes. Her hands trembled briefly as she lit one, the flame flaring before settling.

“I want to thank you both.”

Neither man spoke.

“I know you’ve been treating my daughter as if she were one of your own.”

Still, silence.

A tight, brittle smile tugged at Elise’s lips.

“It’s amazing… isn’t it?”

she said quietly.

“My daughter… being treated better by strangers than her fam—”

Her voice broke. The word never finished. A soft, involuntary sob escaped her throat.

Edward stood and slid a box of tissues across the table without a word. Elise took one, dabbed at her eyes, then straightened. When she lifted her head again, the grief was still there—but now it was joined by resolve.

“There’s something I need,”

she said evenly,

“Before I tell you what you want to hear.”

Walter and Edward exchanged a glance.

Edward spoke gently.

“What’s that, Mrs. Thorne?”

Elise drew in a steady breath.

“I need to speak with my daughter.”

\-------

Ileana sat at the table in Remy’s lab, pen moving steadily as she scribbled notes across the page. Beside her, Phoebe adjusted the microscope, the two of them having just finished testing Corey’s blood sample with the Panxoten vaccine.

“Ilie—look!”

Phoebe pointed at the slide, her voice sharp with excitement.

“I don’t see anything. Look—there are no traces!”

Ileana was on her feet instantly, sliding into place beside her. She leaned down and peered through the microscope, her breath catching as the image came into focus.

Nothing.

The Doxoten was gone.

Phoebe was right.

“Holy shit…”

Ileana whispered.

“I think it worked.”

Her voice came out low and breathless, as if she were afraid the moment would shatter if she spoke any louder. Phoebe let out a shaky laugh, her hands trembling as she stared at the screen.

“You did it!”

she cried.

“Professor—you actually did it!”

She threw her arms around Ileana, hugging her tightly. Ileana stiffened for half a second, then relaxed, emotion welling in her chest. If the vaccine truly worked, Corey had a chance. One life—at least one—might be saved. A single fatality undone.

Ileana exhaled slowly, steadying herself as a soft smile curved her lips.

“That’s not all,”

she said quietly.

“I think I figured out why the Doxoten didn’t kill Corey.”

Phoebe immediately pulled back, all excitement replaced by focus as Ileana reached for her notes.

“So I studied the plant responsible for the compound,”

Ileana continued.

“The Sypran.”

Phoebe nodded, pen already moving.

“It’s an aquatic plant,”

Ileana said.

“It thrives in high-moisture environments. That’s part of why it bonds so efficiently inside the human body.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened.

“Because the human body is mostly water.”

“Exactly.”

Ileana tapped the page.

“Which means storage matters. There’s likely a specific environment required to maintain its potency. My guess is Matthews kept his Doxoten in a controlled, humid setting.”

She paused.

“But Rachel probably didn’t.”

Phoebe’s pen stilled.

“So it degraded.”

“That’s my theory.”

Phoebe looked up at her, awe creeping back into her expression.

“It’s a really good one—”

The ringing of a phone cut her off.

Ileana glanced at the screen. Uncle Walt.

She answered immediately.

“Hey—this is perfect timing—”

She froze mid-sentence. The color drained from her face.

Phoebe watched silently as Ileana turned away, her posture stiffening with every word she heard.

“So… she won’t talk unless I come.”

A pause.

Ileana’s jaw tightened.

“Fine,”

she said flatly.

“I’m on my way.”

The line went dead.

For a long moment, Ileana didn’t move.

“My mother’s at the police station,”

she said at last.

Phoebe’s eyes widened.

“W-Why?”

“She wants to confess.”

Phoebe clasped her hands together, breath hitching.

“That’s… that’s good, right?”

Ileana didn’t answer right away. Her expression hardened.

“She won’t do it unless she speaks to me first.”

The weight of that settled heavily between them.

Phoebe swallowed, then stepped closer.

“That’s not fair,”

she said quietly.

“She doesn’t get to put that on you.”

Ileana let out a humorless breath.

“She just did.”

Phoebe glanced at the microscope, at the notes scattered across the table—the proof of what they’d just accomplished. Of what ‘Ileana’ had accomplished. She straightened, resolve hardening in her chest.

“Okay,”

Phoebe said.

“Then you’re not going alone.”

Ileana finally looked at her.

“Phoebe—”

“I’m not saying I’ll go inside,”

Phoebe cut in gently.

“But I’m coming with you. I’ll drive, I’ll wait, I’ll sit outside the station for as long as it takes. You don’t have to do this by yourself.”

Ileana hesitated.

Phoebe softened her voice.

“You always tell me that science doesn’t happen in isolation. That breakthroughs come from collaboration.”

She offered a small, shaky smile.

“This is no different.”

Silence stretched between them—then Ileana exhaled slowly, some of the tension bleeding from her posture.

“…Thank you,”