Chapter 3 - The Name Behind M-17
For the first time since Luka appeared, he looked afraid.
Not nervous.
Not surprised.
Afraid.
I saw it before he could hide it.
“What does that mean?”
I asked.
He stared at the message.
“Luka.”
He slowly lifted his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Your DNA?”
“Sofia—”
“Your DNA is M-17?”
“I don’t know.”
I almost laughed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because until thirty seconds ago, I thought M-17 was a case file.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m not sure.”
My daughter cried harder.
I pressed her against my chest.
My body responded before my mind did.
My voice softened automatically.
“It’s okay.”
Nothing was okay.
But she didn’t need to know that.
Nancy was still trying the consultation room door.
“It’s electronically locked.”
Luka approached.
“Move.”
He pulled a thin tool from his wallet.
“What is that?”
I asked.
“Something I shouldn’t have in a hospital.”
At least that was honest.
He worked the mechanism.
“What do you mean you don’t know whether your DNA is M-17?”
I demanded.
“My father enrolled me in a medical preservation program after an accident when I was nineteen.”
“What kind of preservation?”
“I was badly injured.”
He focused on the lock.
“Doctors told me there was a chance surgery would leave me infertile.”
My stomach tightened.
“So you froze sperm.”
“Yes.”
The room suddenly felt much colder.
“Where?”
Luka stopped working.
His silence answered.
“No.”
“Sofia.”
“Where?”
“Meridian Reproductive Technologies.”
The baby went quiet.
I didn’t.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You knew this entire time.”
“I knew I had material stored at Meridian twenty years ago.”
“You knew someone used M-17 on my prenatal paternity test.”
“I did not know M-17 referred to me.”
“How could you not?”
“My records were under a different classification.”
“What classification?”
“LM-22.”
“Then why would M-17 be you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stop saying that.”
The lock clicked open.
Luka turned toward me.
“If I had known there was even a possibility that your daughter was biologically mine, do you think I would have introduced myself by signing a form in a hallway?”
I stared at him.
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
“You’re clearly insane.”
Nancy made a noise that might have been a cough.
Luka almost smiled.
Then his face hardened again.
“We need to leave.”
He opened the door.
The hallway beyond was dark except for emergency lighting.
Nobody moved.
“Why is it so quiet?”
Nancy whispered.
“Because somebody cleared this section.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
I glared at him.
He noticed.
“Bad choice of words.”
We moved through the hallway.
Luka stayed in front.
Nancy pushed the empty bassinet behind us to make it look as though we were moving a routine patient if anyone saw us from a distance.
I walked carefully.
My body was screaming.
Every few steps, a cramp twisted across my lower abdomen.
Luka noticed.
“We can stop.”
“No.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I gave birth today.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then stop looking at me like I’m about to break.”
He looked straight ahead.
“I’m looking because if you fall, I’m catching you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
We reached a stairwell.
Nancy looked horrified.
“She can’t do six flights.”
“She won’t.”
Luka opened a maintenance closet.
Inside was an industrial freight elevator.
“How do you know this hospital better than I do?”
Nancy asked.
“I spent two years learning every access point.”
“For security?”
“No.”
“For what?”
“Finding somebody.”
My heart tightened.
“My father?”
Luka looked at me.
“Yes.”
The elevator descended.
Nobody spoke.
When the doors opened, we were in an underground loading area.
A black SUV waited.
A man around sixty stood beside it.
He wore a brown coat and held himself like an old soldier.
“Luka.”
“Rafael.”
The man looked at me.
His expression changed immediately.
“Gabriel’s girl.”
I hated how many strangers seemed to know me.
“You knew my father too?”
Rafael gave a sad smile.
“Best man I ever worked for.”
“Apparently everyone worked for my father except me.”
Nobody laughed.
Luka opened the rear door.
There was a newly installed infant car seat.
I stared at it.
“You planned this.”
“I planned for the possibility you would need to leave quickly.”
“You installed a car seat?”
“Rafael did.”
Rafael lifted both hands.
“I have grandchildren.”
That bizarrely made me trust him more.
I carefully placed my daughter into the seat.
My hands fumbled with the straps.
Luka reached in.
I immediately blocked him.
“I can do it.”
He stepped back.
“Okay.”
After three tries, I secured her.
Luka closed the door gently.
Nancy remained behind.
“Aren’t you coming?”
I asked.
She shook her head.
“I have patients.”
“They could come after you.”
“Then I’ll be very confused.”
For the first time that night, I smiled.
Nancy hugged me carefully.
“Take care of that baby.”
“I will.”
She looked at Luka.
“And if something happens to her—”
“It won’t.”
“I wasn’t finished.”
Rafael chuckled.
Luka nodded solemnly.
“Understood.”
We drove out through the underground loading garage.
I watched the hospital disappear behind us.
Daniel had left through the front entrance.
I escaped through the basement.
That felt symbolic somehow.
Luka sat beside Rafael in front.
I remained in back with my daughter.
“Where are we going?”
“A safe place.”
“That phrase does not make me feel better.”
“My house.”
“That makes me feel worse.”
“It’s secure.”
“So is prison.”
Rafael glanced in the mirror.
“She really is Gabriel’s daughter.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“He never trusted anyone either.”
I looked out the window.
The city moved past.
It was almost midnight.
My daughter was eight hours old.
I still hadn’t chosen her middle name.
I hadn’t taken the photograph beside the little hospital sign.
I hadn’t introduced her to my friends.
Instead, I was fleeing the hospital with strangers.
My phone buzzed.
Daniel.
I stared at his name.
Luka turned.
“Don’t answer.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
I answered.
“Where are you?”
Daniel asked.
No hello.
No apology.
No question about the baby.
“Why did you sign a paternity relinquishment?”
Silence.
Then he exhaled.
“Sofia.”
“Answer me.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“Answer me.”
“Where are you?”
“Why did you try to send me to Cedar Ridge?”
Another silence.
This one longer.
Then Daniel’s voice softened.
“I was trying to help you.”
I nearly screamed.
“You told a psychiatric hospital I was unstable.”
“You were emotional.”
“I had just given birth.”
“You accused me of things.”
“I caught you kissing Vanessa in my hospital room.”
“That isn’t what happened.”
I looked at Luka.
He heard every word.
“What was it?”
I asked.
Daniel hesitated.
“She was comforting me.”
“With her mouth?”
Rafael coughed loudly.
Luka looked out the window.
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“This is exactly what I mean.”
“No.”
I felt something inside me settle.
“This is what you mean when you say I’m supposed to doubt what I saw.”
“Sofia.”
“Why did you order a DNA test?”
Silence.
Then Daniel asked a question that chilled me.
“Who told you?”
Not denial.
Who told you.
I closed my eyes.
“So it’s true.”
“Sofia, listen to me very carefully.”
“No.”
“You are in danger.”
I looked at Luka’s reflection in the windshield.
“From who?”
Daniel’s answer came immediately.
“The man you’re with.”
Luka turned.
Daniel continued.
“His name is Luka Moretti.”
“I know.”
“You need to get away from him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s been obsessed with your family for years.”
Luka’s expression did not move.
“He signed our daughter’s birth certificate.”
Daniel went silent.
When he spoke again, the arrogance was gone.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Where is he?”
I almost laughed.
“So now you care?”
“Sofia, you do not understand what you’ve done.”
“I didn’t sign anything.”
“Get away from him.”
“Why?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Because Luka Moretti is the reason your father is dead.”
The car became silent.
I looked at Luka.
His face was unreadable.
“Is that true?”
I asked.
Daniel spoke first.
“He won’t tell you.”
“Luka?”
His jaw tightened.
“Sofia.”
Daniel almost sounded relieved.
“See?”
“What happened to my father?”
I asked Luka.
He looked straight at me.
“I was in the car.”
My blood turned cold.
“What?”
“The night your father crashed.”
Daniel whispered through the phone.
“Ask him who was driving.”
I stared at Luka.
“Who was driving?”
Luka did not answer.
“Who?”
Finally, he spoke.
“I was.”
I hung up.
For the next twenty minutes, I didn’t say a word.
Rafael drove us out of the city.
Buildings disappeared.
Streetlights became fewer.
Eventually we turned onto a private road surrounded by trees.
A steel gate opened.
A large modern house appeared beyond it.
Not a mansion.
A fortress.
Security cameras tracked the SUV.
The garage opened before we reached it.
When we were inside, Luka turned.
“I can explain.”
“You drove the car that killed my father.”
“Yes.”
“Was it an accident?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel says it wasn’t.”
“Daniel lies.”
“So do people who hide things.”
“I didn’t kill Gabriel.”
“But you were driving.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Luka closed his eyes briefly.
“We were being followed.”
“By who?”
“Men working for Adrian Cross.”
I stared at him.
“My father-in-law.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel had taken something.”
“What?”
“M-17.”
I almost laughed from exhaustion.
“Everything is M-17.”
“Because everything started there.”
He led us inside.
Rafael brought the baby carrier.
I hated myself for allowing it, but my body was shaking too badly.
The house was warm.
Quiet.
A fire burned in a stone fireplace.
On a table near the entrance sat bottled water, diapers, formula, wipes, blankets, and postpartum supplies.
“You planned for a mother and newborn.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Luka looked at my daughter.
“Because Gabriel asked me to.”
My heart skipped.
“My father died twelve years ago.”
“Yes.”
“My pregnancy lasted nine months.”
“I’m aware.”
“How could he ask you to prepare for my baby?”
“He didn’t.”
Luka removed the brass key from his pocket.
“He told me that if you ever gave birth to a daughter, I was supposed to open a box.”
I stared at him.
“When did he tell you that?”
“The night of the crash.”
He walked to a wall safe.
Entered a code.
Inside sat a metal lockbox.
Old.
Scratched.
Sealed with red wax.
My father’s initials were pressed into the wax.
GB.
My legs nearly failed.
Luka brought the box to the table.
“He told me not to open this unless two conditions were met.”
“What conditions?”
“You gave birth to a daughter.”
I looked at my baby.
“And?”
Luka’s eyes met mine.
“Someone tried to erase her medical records.”
Silence.
He inserted the brass key.
The lock opened.
Inside were three objects.
A letter addressed to me.
A black flash drive.
And a sealed DNA envelope.
The envelope was yellowed with age.
Across the front, my father had written four words.
FOR SOFIA BEFORE MARRIAGE.
My heart stopped.
I had married Daniel four years earlier.
Whatever was inside that envelope had been waiting for me long before my wedding.
I reached for it.
Luka caught my wrist.
Not hard.
But fast.
“Don’t.”
I looked at his hand.
He released me immediately.
“Why?”
His eyes remained on the envelope.
“Because I think this is the test your husband is terrified you’ll find.”
I picked it up.
Something stiff was inside.
Before I could tear it open, my phone lit up.
A message from Daniel.
There was no greeting.
May you like
Only one sentence.
IF YOU OPEN THE DNA ENVELOPE, YOU WILL DESTROY YOUR OWN FAMILY.
