A storm rolled over the Bernal mountains that evening, thunder grumbling low and persistent like the growl of an unseen predator. Inside the stone cottage, Alina sat cross-legged on a rug near the hearth, eyes fixed on the flickering fire as its glow illuminated her pale features. Across from her, Selena stood by the window, silhouette carved by the lightning flashes beyond.
Leonard had retreated to the back room with Rafe, discussing defensive contingencies and planning possible extraction routes. But Alina needed this moment—alone with the person who looked like her, spoke like her… but had walked a life far darker than hers.
Selena finally broke the silence.
"You were adopted by the Hart family."
Alina nodded. "At thirteen."
"Did they love you?"
"They tried. But I was angry, confused… detached. I barely let them in."
Selena's voice was devoid of emotion. "They told me you died."
Alina turned sharply. "What?"
"Dr. Elara. After she separated us, she told me that you were too unstable. That your 'conditioning' had failed. That your mind had fractured and you couldn't recover. So they terminated you."
Alina's breath caught. "Why would she lie?"
"Because she wanted control. You were the obedient one. I wasn't."
That was a bitter irony. Alina had always believed she was the rebel in every foster home. But apparently, compared to Selena, she'd been pliable.
Selena turned from the window, crossing the room with quiet steps. She handed Alina a manila envelope thick with papers.
"What's this?"
"The Rossi Protocol."
Alina frowned. "Our last name."
Selena nodded. "The name of the experiment too. We were part of a genetic-predictive program—testing emotional recall retention under memory suppression. Children selected for the program showed unusual neurological patterns. Empathic processing mixed with analytical reasoning. They wanted to create agents who could be programmed—who would believe the stories they were given."
Alina skimmed the papers. The language was technical, coded in symbols and clinical coldness. But some phrases stood out:
Subject A displays dissociative adaptability.
Subject B retains traumatic anchor memory against suppression.
Separation recommended. Long-term observation through controlled environments.
"They split us to see who would adapt better," Alina whispered.
"You were placed in a family unit. I was kept in isolation," Selena replied, voice flat. "I escaped at fifteen. Disappeared into the underground. Learned to fight. Hack. Infiltrate. I wasn't going to be someone's weapon."
Alina's hands trembled as she held the documents. "Why now, Selena? Why bring this to me after all these years?"
"Because they're active again," Selena said, crouching in front of her. "And they've found new funding. A company called Novacore Biotech just received a grant to develop 'cognitive behavioral enhancements' for children with high emotional intelligence. Guess who's on their board?"
Alina stared blankly.
"Armand Voss. Elara's brother."
The name felt like venom.
"They're back," Selena said darkly. "And this time, they'll want you. Lily. Me. Everything tied to the Rossi Protocol."
In the back room, Leonard sat with Rafe, arms crossed, jaw tight.
"I don't trust her," he muttered.
"You shouldn't," Rafe replied. "She's dangerous. Smart. And unpredictable."
"But she knows more than we do."
Rafe handed him a satellite photo. "This was taken two weeks ago. That's the Novacore research compound in the Swiss Alps. Hidden under the guise of a child rehabilitation center."
Leonard narrowed his eyes. "How many children?"
"Twenty-seven. All under ten."
"Is Lily on their radar?"
Rafe paused. "She isn't yet. But if they confirm her DNA match to the Rossi dataset…"
"They will."
Rafe looked at him. "Then we strike first."
That night, Selena led them to a hidden room beneath the cottage—a bunker of sorts. The walls were lined with monitors, outdated but functional servers, and files categorized in precise stacks. It was her war room.
She pointed to a screen showing security feeds from the Novacore compound. "They run shifts every six hours. Their internal firewall is biometric-gated. But I've hacked the external surveillance once before."
"You've been inside?" Leonard asked.
"Twice. Couldn't reach the core lab. But I left something behind."
She held up a small drive. "A spider node. If we can get close again, I can remotely unlock the system."
Alina stepped forward. "Then we go."
Leonard raised a brow. "You're not a field agent."
"No," Alina agreed. "But I'm a mother. And they want my daughter."
Selena studied her, a flicker of something like pride passing through her usually cold eyes.
"Then we go together."
Three nights later, the wind howled down the alpine slopes as a black snow-equipped SUV made its way toward the hidden compound.
Selena, behind the wheel, kept her eyes on the GPS as Rafe monitored the comms. Leonard sat in the passenger seat, loaded Glock on his thigh, eyes scanning every tree line. Alina sat in the back, pulse steadying through controlled breaths.
She wasn't trained for this. But she had to be ready.
"Five minutes to drop zone," Rafe said.
Selena's voice was calm. "Once inside, I'll take the east corridor. Leonard, west. Rafe controls the comms and extracts the data. Alina—"
"I'll get to the lab with you."
"You'll follow my lead. Understood?"
Alina nodded. "Understood."
The compound loomed ahead—half-buried in snow, steel and concrete blending into the mountainside. They parked in a service tunnel, donned black gear, and made their way through an access hatch Selena had mapped.
Inside, the hallways were sterile, humming with low electricity and surveillance sensors.
Selena moved like a shadow. Alina stayed close, heart pounding.
At one intersection, Selena held up a hand.
Two guards passed.
Selena drew a silent blade from her boot, slipping behind the first guard before he could turn. In one smooth motion, both men dropped.
Alina flinched.
Selena cleaned her blade. "Still think you're the rebel sister?"
Alina shook her head. "I think I never really knew myself."
They reached the lab door—secured with palm recognition and a retinal scanner.
Selena inserted the spider node.
A pause. Then a faint click.
The door opened.
Inside: the Rossi files. Digital archives. Genetic maps. And a case labeled Subject C.
Selena cursed.
"What?"
"They already started with new candidates. They're skipping suppression. Going straight into neural rewriting."
Alina opened the file. A picture of a boy—maybe seven—his eyes wide and frightened.
"They're redoing what they did to us."
Selena nodded grimly. "Worse. With funding."
Then the alarm screamed.
"Time's up," Leonard's voice barked in their earpieces. "We've been made. Extraction point—two minutes."
Selena grabbed the entire hard drive.
Alina looked at the boy's photo one more time, then whispered, "We'll save you."
They ran.
They barely made it back to the access tunnel, bullets ricocheting behind them. Rafe laid down cover fire as Selena hot-wired the SUV. They tore out of the tunnel as the compound lit up behind them, searchlights sweeping in fury.
Back at the safe house, they sat in stunned silence.
Leonard turned to Alina. "You okay?"
She nodded. "We have the files. That's what matters."
Selena plugged in the drive. Maps. Coordinates. Names.
Then a file titled:
"Project Requiem: Phase II. Subject – Lily Hart."
Alina's blood ran cold.
"They already found her," Selena whispered.