Page 47

"Your memory is correct," Reid confirms, leaning forward. "I was there the night Unity forces discovered Haven. I helped Elara hide you among a group of Unity refugees we were treating at our facility."

"You smuggled me into Unity," I say, the pieces finally clicking. "Made me look like an orphaned citizen."

Reid nods, his expression haunted. "It was Elara's contingency plan. If Haven fell, you and the other children would be hidden in the last place Unity would look—inside their perfect society."

"Other children?" Trent speaks up for the first time since entering the chamber. "How many?"

"Twelve in total," answers a third Elder, a woman with dark skin and silver hair coiled in intricate braids. "Each carrying different modification patterns designed by their parents. Yours, Zara, were perhaps the most sophisticated, designed specifically to remain dormant until triggered by certain conditions."

"What conditions?" I demand.

"Age was the primary factor," Reid explains. "The modifications needed your body to reach full maturity. Butproximity to others with active genetic adaptations could accelerate the process. And certain environmental factors?—"

"Like being near Eden," I interrupt. "She said she could smell it on me. That my patterns were 'waking up.'"

Reid nods. "The child's assessment was accurate. Your interactions with Splinters during your Sentinel duties likely began the activation sequence, but extended contact with someone whose modifications are fully expressed would significantly accelerate the process."

I look at Trent, wondering if he's connecting the same dots I am. The increased Splinter infiltration. None of it feels coincidental anymore.

"Was I sent back to find the other children?" I ask. "Is that why Eden was in Unity?"

Nora shakes her head. "Eden's presence in the arcology was unrelated to you, at least directly. She was sent to locate someone else, another member of our community who's been working undercover in Unity for years."

I process this, still struggling to reconcile the idea that I was placed in Unity deliberately, that my entire life has been built on a foundation of carefully constructed lies.

"My parents," I say, voice thick with emotion I can't quite name. "My Unity records listed them as Elias and Mira Thorne. Were they real?"

"No," Reid admits gently. "Those identities were fabricated to establish your cover. Your true parents were Dr. Elara Thorne and Dr. David Kraine, both founding researchers at Haven."

My father's name unlocks another memory fragment—a man with dark eyes like mine, laughing as he lifts me high above his head in a sunlit room.

"What happened to them?" I ask, though I already suspect the answer.

Reid's expression confirms my fears before he speaks. "Your father died defending the north wing of the facility,buying time for evacuations. Your mother..." He hesitates. "She remained behind to destroy research that would have been dangerous in Unity's hands. She activated the facility's emergency protocols, which triggered a contained implosion."

She sacrificed herself.

To protect her work…

To protect me.

I don't realize I'm crying until I feel the wetness on my cheeks. Tears I didn't know I had in me for parents I barely remember.

"Zara." Trent's voice is low, just for me. His hand finds mine, warm and solid and real amid this whirlwind of revelations.

I cling to his fingers like they're the only steady thing in a world that keeps shifting beneath my feet.

"I know this is overwhelming," Nora says, her amber eyes full of sympathy. "But there's more you need to understand. About your modifications and why Elara designed them the way she did."

"Tell me," I say, squeezing Trent's hand once before releasing it. I need to face this on my own, even with him beside me.

Reid stands, moving to a wall panel that slides away to reveal what appears to be a data terminal. "Perhaps it's better if Elara tells you herself."

My heart stutters. "She's alive?"

"No," Reid says gently. "But she left messages for you, in case you ever found your way back to us."

The terminal illuminates, and a holographic image forms in the center of the room, a woman with dark hair pulled back from a face that strikes me with its familiarity. I've seen those cheekbones, that determined jawline, in my own reflection countless times without realizing their significance.