Chapter 24
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Vivienne slid the rusted key into the heavy brass padlock. For a terrifying second, it didn't turn. The internal mechanisms were stiff with decades of neglect. She took a deep breath, gripped the padlock with her left hand, and twisted the key with all her might.
A loud, metallic click echoed down the flooded corridor.
Richard let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Samuel stepped forward, grabbing the heavy iron handle of the door and pulling it open. The hinges shrieked in protest, echoing like a dying animal in the dark basement.
Laura stepped inside first, sweeping the room with her flashlight and her service weapon drawn.
"Room is clear," Laura announced, lowering her gun. "And completely dry. The iron door kept the water out."
Vivienne walked into the room. It was surprisingly small, no larger than a standard office. The walls were lined with metal filing cabinets that had survived the inferno above completely untouched. In the center of the room sat a solid oak desk, covered in a thick layer of dust.
"This wasn't an ordinary orphanage record room," Richard observed, shining his light on the labels of the filing cabinets. "These aren't adoption files. These are medical dossiers. Genetic sequencing. Blood typings."
"Malcolm was using this place as a laboratory," Samuel growled in disgust. "He wasn't sheltering children. He was studying them."
Vivienne walked slowly over to the oak desk. There was a single, leather-bound ledger resting in the center. She reached out and wiped the thick dust from the cover. The gold-leaf lettering read: Protocol Omega.
"Protocol Omega," Vivienne read aloud. "Have you ever heard of this, Richard?"
Richard walked over, his expression grim. "Malcolm mentioned it once, years ago. I thought it was just a corporate acquisition strategy. I had no idea it was connected to human subjects."
Vivienne opened the ledger. The pages were perfectly preserved. The handwriting was neat, clinical, and completely devoid of emotion.
"Subject One: Female. Assigned caretaker: Emily Ashford. Status: Successfully relocated," Vivienne read, her voice trembling. "That's me. He assigned my mother to be my caretaker."
She turned the page.
"Subject Two: Male. Assigned caretaker: Grace Ellis. Status: Relocated to safe house."
Laura leaned over her shoulder. "Grace Ellis. So the nurse from the hospital fire took the second child. That explains why Theodore is protecting her."
Vivienne turned to the third page. The ink on this page was different. It was written in frantic, aggressive strokes, as if the writer was angry or panicked.
"Subject Three: Male. Assigned caretaker: Unknown. Status: Retained by primary benefactor."
Richard’s face went completely pale. "Primary benefactor..."
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"Malcolm," Samuel realized, stepping back in shock. "Malcolm kept the third child for himself. He raised him."
"Which means the third child," Vivienne whispered, staring at the ledger, "is the heir to the Ashford empire."
