It was more than a secret; it was a weapon, and I was the target.
Grace Lives, but the Past Strikes
The surgeon’s voice cut through the sterile air.
“Grace Harper has stabilized; both twins are breathing on their own.”
Relief surged, then fizzled as a uniformed officer stepped into the room, badge glinting.
He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes sharp as a scalpel.
“Emily Harper?” he asked, voice flat.
“Yes.” My throat felt raw.
“We need to talk about a missing person case linked to Harper Genetics.”
My mind raced: the biotech firm, the cure, the inheritance.
“Someone vanished three years ago—Dr. Larkin, the lead researcher on the D.o.w.n therapy.”
The officer slid a folder across the steel table.
Inside were photos of Dr. Larkin with Caleb, smiling, a contract identical to the one I’d just read.
