Chapter 7 - The Boy Behind the Glass

# Chapter 7 - The Boy Behind the Glass

The photograph of Julian's identical twin arrived on Arthur Harrison's phone at 11:17 p.m.

The boy in the picture had the same dark brown hair, the same gray-green eyes, and the same narrow face as Julian. But his cheeks were hollow, his wrists looked painfully thin, and a white hospital bracelet hung loosely around his left arm.

Beneath the photograph was a message.

You have forty-three minutes to save one of your sons.

Arthur stared at the screen.

Then a second message appeared.

Bring Evelyn's notebook to Blackwood. Come alone. If you contact the police, Subject B will be terminated.

Detective Sarah Bennett stood across from him.

"Arthur? What happened?"

He handed her the phone.

She read the messages, her expression growing darker.

"Don't respond yet."

Arthur's jaw tightened.

"There's a child in that photograph."

"I can see that."

"My child."

"We don't know when the photograph was taken."

Arthur stepped closer.

"Are you suggesting I should ignore it?"

"No. I'm saying whoever sent this wants you frightened enough to make a mistake."

Arthur looked toward the study door.

Beyond it, Julian stood silently in the hallway.

Neither adult knew he had heard everything.

The boy slowly backed away.

For the first time in his life, he understood that somewhere beyond the walls of the Harrison mansion, another child had grown up with his face.

And that child might die before they ever met.

In the wooded grounds surrounding Blackwood Recovery Center, Evelyn Harrison stumbled over a fallen branch.

Clara cried out as her mother's hand slipped from hers.

Nurse Emily Carter immediately caught the little girl.

"Are you hurt?"

Clara shook her head.

Evelyn leaned against a tree, struggling to breathe.

Years of confinement, medication, and limited physical activity had left her dangerously weak. The cold night air burned her lungs.

"We can't stop," she whispered.

Emily looked back toward the facility.

Security lights swept across the distant trees.

"We need to find a road."

Evelyn shook her head.

"Not the main road. Cross has people watching it."

"Then where?"

Evelyn pointed toward a narrow path descending through the woods.

"There's an old maintenance station near the creek."

"How do you know?"

"I found it during my second escape attempt."

Emily stared at her.

"Second?"

Evelyn looked away.

"There were four."

Clara tightened her grip on her mother's hand.

"Mommy, did the bad doctor keep you here?"

Evelyn knelt despite the pain in her legs.

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Did he hurt you?"

Evelyn's eyes filled.

"He made me stay somewhere I didn't want to be."

Clara touched her cheek.

"I'll tell Daddy."

Evelyn pulled her daughter into her arms.

For a moment, she couldn't speak.

She had spent three years imagining Clara growing up without her.

Now the little girl was promising to protect her.

"We'll tell him together," Evelyn whispered.

A distant engine interrupted them.

Emily looked toward the road.

Headlights moved between the trees.

"Someone's coming."

Evelyn stood.

"Hide."

The three slipped behind a cluster of fallen branches.

A dark SUV rolled slowly along the maintenance road.

Its windows were tinted.

It stopped less than fifty yards away.

A man stepped out carrying a flashlight.

"Mrs. Harrison!" he called.

Clara pressed her face against Evelyn's shoulder.

The man swept his light across the trees.

"Dr. Cross only wants to talk!"

Emily silently shook her head.

The man took several steps toward them.

Then his radio crackled.

A voice said, "Return to the facility. We have a problem with Subject B."

The man froze.

"What kind of problem?"

The answer came through a burst of static.

"He's awake."

At Blackwood, a teenage boy sat upright in a hospital bed.

His name, according to the facility's records, was Patient B-17.

He had never been told his birth name.

For thirteen years, he had lived inside locked rooms, surrounded by doctors, nurses, and security personnel who referred to him by numbers.

He knew how to read.

He knew mathematics.

He knew the names of countries he had never visited.

But he had never attended school, played outside with other children, or celebrated a birthday with a family.

His entire world consisted of medical examinations, controlled lessons, and occasional walks through a fenced courtyard.

Tonight, something had changed.

A nurse had accidentally left a tablet on his bedside table.

The screen displayed a news article.

POLICE INVESTIGATE HARRISON FAMILY TRUST SCANDAL

Beneath the headline was a photograph of Arthur Harrison standing outside his mansion.

Beside him stood Julian.

The boy stared at the picture.

Then he touched his own face.

The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

He enlarged the image.

Julian smiled awkwardly toward the camera.

The boy in the hospital bed had never seen anyone who looked so much like him.

He whispered, "Who are you?"

The door opened.

Dr. Nathaniel Cross entered.

The boy immediately hid the tablet beneath his blanket.

Cross examined the monitor beside the bed.

"You're awake."

"Yes, Doctor."

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

Cross studied him.

"Any headaches?"

"No."

"Visual disturbances?"

"No."

"Memory problems?"

The boy hesitated.

"No."

Cross leaned closer.

"You're lying."

The boy lowered his eyes.

Cross extended his hand.

"The tablet."

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then the boy slowly surrendered it.

Cross looked at the screen.

His expression darkened.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was here."

"Did you read the article?"

The boy nodded.

Cross placed the tablet on a counter.

"Those people have nothing to do with you."

The boy looked up.

"Then why does he look like me?"

Cross froze.

"Who?"

"The boy in the picture."

Cross said nothing.

The boy continued.

"Is he my brother?"

Cross's face became unreadable.

"You've been told about your medical condition."

"I've been told many things."

"Then you know that emotional distress can make you ill."

The boy looked toward the window.

"Am I sick?"

Cross hesitated.

"You're receiving necessary treatment."

"That's not what I asked."

For the first time, Cross appeared irritated.

"You're becoming difficult."

The boy looked directly at him.

"What's my name?"

Cross stared.

"Patient B-17."

"My real name."

Silence.

The boy's voice trembled.

"Please."

Cross approached the door.

"Get some rest."

As he left, the boy called after him.

"Does my mother know I'm alive?"

Cross stopped.

But he did not turn around.

At the Harrison estate, Victoria Vale sat alone in the west sitting room when Arthur entered.

She looked exhausted.

Her makeup had faded, and her hands trembled around a cup of untouched tea.

Arthur closed the door.

"Where is the second boy?"

Victoria's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Julian's twin. Where is he?"

Victoria looked down.

"I don't know."

Arthur placed the photograph on the table.

"Look at him."

She glanced at it.

Her face changed immediately.

Arthur noticed.

"You recognize him."

Victoria shook her head.

"No."

"Victoria."

Tears filled her eyes.

"I thought he was dead."

"Who told you that?"

"Nathaniel."

Arthur sat opposite her.

"Start from the beginning."

Victoria stared at the photograph for a long time.

Then she spoke.

"Thirteen years ago, Evelyn asked me to accompany her to a private medical consultation."

Arthur remained silent.

"She was pregnant. She was frightened because the doctors had discovered complications."

"What complications?"

"Cross told her one baby might not survive."

Arthur's hands tightened.

"Did she know she was carrying twins?"

Victoria nodded.

"Yes."

Arthur felt another painful contradiction settle into place.

Evelyn had kept the pregnancy from him.

Or someone had convinced her that she had to.

"Why didn't she tell me?"

Victoria wiped her eyes.

"She was planning to. But Cross told her the pregnancy was dangerous and that she should wait until they had more information."

Arthur stared at her.

"And you helped him."

Victoria nodded.

"At first, I believed him."

"At first?"

Her voice broke.

"After the delivery, Cross told Evelyn both babies had died."

Arthur leaned forward.

"But they hadn't."

"No."

"How did you get Julian?"

Victoria closed her eyes.

"Cross brought him to me six months later."

Arthur felt sick.

"You knew he was Evelyn's child."

"Yes."

"And you raised him as your own."

Victoria began crying.

"He told me the other baby had died. He said Julian needed a mother."

Arthur stood abruptly.

"You stole my son."

Victoria flinched.

"I loved him."

"You lied to him every day."

"I know."

"You made him believe I didn't want him."

Her face crumpled.

"I was afraid that if he loved you, he'd eventually discover the truth."

Arthur looked at her with disgust.

"And Clara?"

Victoria said nothing.

"Why did you treat my daughter that way?"

Victoria covered her face.

"Because she reminded me of Evelyn."

The confession hung between them.

Arthur stared at the woman he had married.

For years, he had believed Victoria was helping him rebuild his family.

Instead, she had been punishing an innocent child for resembling the woman whose place she had taken.

"Did you know Evelyn was alive?"

Victoria slowly lowered her hands.

"Not until two years ago."

Arthur froze.

"What?"

"I saw her at Blackwood."

"You saw my wife alive?"

Victoria nodded.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Cross threatened Julian."

Arthur stepped backward.

For a moment, he couldn't even look at her.

Then he asked the question that mattered most.

"Did you help arrange Evelyn's accident?"

Victoria shook her head.

"No."

"Did you know it would happen?"

She hesitated.

Arthur's expression hardened.

"Answer me."

Victoria whispered, "I knew they were going to stop her."

Arthur felt his chest tighten.

"But I didn't know how."

In the mansion's upstairs corridor, Julian stood outside Clara's bedroom.

The room had been sealed for forensic examination.

A police officer guarded the door.

Julian looked through the opening.

The bed was empty.

The curtains moved slightly.

He remembered Clara sitting at breakfast that morning, crying as milk ran down her hair.

He remembered laughing.

He remembered feeling powerful.

Now he would have given anything to hear her voice.

"Can I go inside?" he asked.

The officer shook his head.

"Sorry, son."

Julian nodded.

He turned away.

Then he noticed Margaret standing near the staircase.

She held a folded blue dress.

Clara's dress.

The one Julian had ruined.

Margaret looked at him.

"Julian."

He lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

She stopped.

"For what?"

"For what I did to Clara."

Margaret studied him.

"Have you told her?"

He shook his head.

"I can't."

"Not yet," Margaret said gently.

Julian looked up.

"Do you think she'll come home?"

Margaret's eyes filled.

"I believe everyone is doing everything they can to bring her back."

Julian stared at the dress.

Then he whispered, "If she comes home, I'll never hurt her again."

Margaret placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Then make sure your actions prove it."

Julian nodded.

But he had already made another decision.

He was going to find his brother.

At 11:39 p.m., Detective Bennett received a call from an unfamiliar number.

"Detective Bennett?"

"Speaking."

"My name is Emily Carter. I'm a nurse at Blackwood Recovery Center."

Sarah immediately straightened.

"Where are you?"

"Outside the facility. I'm with Clara Harrison."

Sarah signaled to Arthur.

He hurried toward her.

"Is she safe?"

Emily hesitated.

"For now."

"Are you injured?"

"No. But we're being searched for."

Sarah opened a map on her tablet.

"Can you describe your location?"

"There's an old maintenance station near a creek. We can see a water tower through the trees."

Sarah relayed the information to the officers coordinating the search.

Then Emily said something that made her stop.

"Detective, there's another person with us."

"Who?"

Emily looked toward Evelyn, who sat beneath a tree holding Clara.

"Evelyn Harrison."

Sarah closed her eyes.

Arthur gripped her arm.

"What did she say?"

Sarah put the call on speaker.

"Emily, can you confirm the woman's identity?"

A pause.

Then a familiar voice came through.

"Arthur?"

He stopped breathing.

For three years, he had dreamed of hearing that voice again.

"Evelyn?"

A sob escaped her.

"Arthur."

He pressed the phone closer.

"Where are you?"

"I'm with Clara."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm alive."

Arthur covered his mouth.

Tears blurred his vision.

"Evelyn..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He shook his head, although she couldn't see him.

"No. Don't apologize."

"Arthur, listen carefully. Cross has another child here."

Arthur froze.

"Our son?"

Evelyn began crying.

"I think so."

Arthur looked toward Sarah.

"We're coming."

"Arthur, please be careful. Cross isn't working alone."

"Who else?"

Evelyn hesitated.

Then she whispered, "Someone inside Harrison Industries."

The call suddenly disconnected.

Sarah immediately tried calling back.

No answer.

Arthur looked at her.

"Find them."

Inside Blackwood, Patient B-17 waited until the corridor became quiet.

He had learned long ago that the night shift changed at 11:45.

For approximately four minutes, the hallway cameras switched between monitoring systems.

Usually, the boy ignored this detail.

Tonight, he intended to use it.

He climbed out of bed.

His legs trembled.

He removed the hospital bracelet from his wrist and placed it beneath his pillow.

Then he opened the drawer beside his bed.

Inside lay a small metal key.

He had taken it from a nurse several weeks earlier.

He had never known whether it would work.

Now he had to try.

The boy approached the door.

Inserted the key.

Turned it.

A soft click.

He stared.

For the first time in thirteen years, his bedroom door was unlocked.

He stepped into the hallway.

No alarm sounded.

He moved quickly toward the stairwell.

On the wall hung a directory.

ADMINISTRATION — LEVEL 1

PEDIATRIC RESEARCH — LEVEL 2

RESTRICTED ARCHIVES — LEVEL B

The boy hesitated.

He wanted to escape.

But he also wanted to know who he was.

He chose the stairs leading down.

At the Harrison estate, Daniel Mercer sat in the rear seat of an unmarked police vehicle.

After Cross confronted him, Daniel had managed to alert an officer that the doctor was inside the mansion. Cross had disappeared before security reached the room.

Now Daniel was being transported for further questioning.

His phone remained in police custody.

He had told investigators about the threatening photograph of Julian's twin.

But he had withheld one detail.

The boy in the photograph had not always been called Subject B.

Years earlier, Daniel had seen another name on a medical record.

A name Cross had ordered erased.

Daniel closed his eyes.

He remembered the day Evelyn gave birth.

The hospital corridor.

The sound of two babies crying.

The doctor carrying one infant toward the neonatal unit.

And the second infant disappearing through a service elevator.

He remembered Cross telling him that both boys were part of a confidential medical program.

At the time, Daniel had believed the arrangement was legal.

Later, he learned the truth.

The twins had been separated deliberately.

One had been raised in the outside world.

The other had been kept under medical observation.

Daniel had never understood why.

Until he saw the genetic report.

The boys were identical.

But their medical histories were not.

One had been exposed to experimental treatments.

The other had not.

Daniel opened his eyes.

He knew what Cross was trying to hide.

And he knew that if Arthur discovered it, Harrison Industries might collapse.

At Blackwood, Patient B-17 reached the restricted archives.

The corridor was dark.

He found an unlocked office and entered.

A computer sat on the desk.

Beside it was a stack of medical folders.

The boy searched until he found a file bearing his patient number.

SUBJECT B-17

He opened it.

The first page contained his photograph.

The second listed medical procedures.

The third contained a genetic comparison.

He recognized the name.

JULIAN MATTHEW VALE.

Beneath it was another line.

BIOLOGICAL RELATIONSHIP: MONOZYGOTIC TWIN

The boy stared at the words.

Identical twin.

The boy in the newspaper was his brother.

His hands began shaking.

He turned another page.

A birth record appeared.

His mother's name was Evelyn Harrison.

His father's name was Arthur Harrison.

And beside the field marked CHILD'S GIVEN NAME, someone had written a single word.

NOAH.

The boy whispered it aloud.

"Noah."

For thirteen years, he had been a number.

Now he had a name.

He repeated it.

"Noah."

Then he heard footsteps.

He quickly turned off the desk lamp.

The office door opened.

Dr. Cross entered.

For a moment, neither moved.

Cross looked at the open folder.

Then at the boy.

"You shouldn't be here."

Noah stepped backward.

"Is that my name?"

Cross remained silent.

"Noah?"

The doctor closed the door.

"Put the file down."

Noah shook his head.

"Why did you keep me here?"

Cross approached slowly.

"Because you're special."

"Why?"

"Your body has helped us understand things that could save thousands of lives."

Noah stared at him.

"Did my parents agree?"

Cross hesitated.

Noah's voice rose.

"Did they?"

"No."

The answer shocked them both.

Cross seemed almost surprised that he had said it.

Noah backed toward the window.

"You lied to me."

Cross sighed.

"Sometimes adults make difficult decisions."

"You stole me."

The doctor's expression hardened.

"I gave you a life."

"No."

Noah clutched the folder.

"You took one."

For a moment, Cross looked genuinely angry.

Then his phone rang.

He answered.

A voice spoke urgently.

"Police are approaching the north entrance."

Cross's face changed.

"How many?"

"Multiple vehicles."

He looked at Noah.

Then at the medical file.

"Prepare the transfer vehicle," he ordered.

He ended the call.

Noah backed away.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Cross reached into his coat.

The boy's eyes widened.

A syringe.

The same kind Cross had used countless times before.

Noah turned and ran.

Outside Blackwood, Arthur stepped from an unmarked police vehicle.

Detective Bennett had insisted that he remain behind the first line of officers.

He had agreed only because Clara's safety depended on a coordinated rescue.

The facility's northern entrance was illuminated by emergency lights.

Officers moved toward the building.

Sarah approached Arthur.

"We've located Emily's last phone signal. Search teams are moving toward the creek."

Arthur nodded.

"And the second boy?"

"We're searching the facility."

Arthur looked toward