Chapter 7 - I Found The Father I Thought Was Dead
We flew to Montreal.
Lena came.
Sophie stayed with trusted security.
My father was harder to find than expected.
The photograph had been taken outside a station.
No location after that.
We spent two days searching.
Then I found him.
A small bookstore.
He was sitting behind the counter reading.
I stood in the doorway.
He looked up.
For a moment neither of us moved.
Then he whispered my name.
“Daniel.”
My anger came before the emotion.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked older than I remembered.
“Because your mother wanted you protected.”
“My mother?”
“Your father's wife.”
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“She knew?”
“She discovered the truth.”
“About Orchard?”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I built it.”
The words struck harder than any confession.
“You used children.”
He looked down.
“I believed I was protecting the country.”
“You destroyed families.”
“I know.”
“You destroyed my family.”
His face broke.
“I failed your mother.”
“Did you kill her?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
He hesitated.
“Margaret Vale.”
Lena gasped.
I turned.
“Why?”
“Claire had the evidence.”
“And Margaret?”
“She believed the program was too important to destroy.”
“What happened after Claire died?”
“I tried to shut it down.”
“Then why did you disappear?”
“Because they threatened you.”
“Who?”
“My former handlers.”
“Are they still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
He looked at Lena.
“Chicago.”
My father handed me a notebook.
Inside were names.
Secret accounts.
Locations.
The entire structure of Project Orchard.
At the center was one name.
MARGARET VALE.
Not Richard Bell.
Not my father.
Margaret.
She had taken control after Claire's death.
She had turned the program into something profitable.
Children's information became blackmail.
School records became weapons.
Families became targets.
And Sophie?
Sophie had been identified as a special candidate because of her memory.
I looked at my father.
“Why didn't you stop her?”
“I tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
“No.”
He closed his eyes.
“I was afraid.”
For the first time, I realized my father wasn't the powerful man I remembered.
He was a broken one.
Still responsible.
Still guilty.
But broken.
Lena asked,
“Did you know my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know she died?”
“Yes.”
“Did you help?”
“No.”
“Did you know Claire tried to save me?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
Lena turned away.
I could see the anger in her.
Then my father said,
“Your mother hid something.”
“What?”
“A copy of the original Orchard files.”
“Where?”
He looked at me.
“In Sophie.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“The code isn't digital.”
“Then what is it?”
“She memorized it.”
Lena whispered,
“No.”
My father continued.
“Your wife had Sophie memorize a sequence without telling her what it was.”
I thought of the games Claire used to play with our daughter.
Numbers.
Shapes.
Patterns.
I had thought they were bedtime games.
My wife had been preparing Sophie.
For what?
Protection.
The sequence Sophie remembered could unlock the original records.
Margaret Vale had been searching for it.
Now she knew we had found my father.
And she would come for Sophie.
We returned to Chicago.
The moment we landed, I received a message.
WE KNOW WHERE YOUR DAUGHTER IS.
Then a second.
BRING THE GIRL TO THE SCHOOL.
ALONE.
I immediately called security.
Sophie was safe.
For now.
But I understood the trap.
The school had been the center of Orchard.
And Margaret wanted Sophie there.
That night, Lena sat beside me.
“We can't let them take her.”
“We won't.”
“She helped me.”
“Who?”
“Claire.”
“What?”
“She helped my mother too.”
Lena looked down.
“That's why my mother trusted her.”
I reached for the notebook.
“What else did your mother tell you?”
Lena hesitated.
“She said Claire hid something at the place where children learned to disappear.”
“The school.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“The theater.”
I remembered.
Harrison Academy had an old theater wing.
Closed years ago.
A place students rarely visited.
We went there at midnight.
Behind the stage was a locked room.
Inside—
photographs.
Children.
Dozens.
Every child who had ever been part of Orchard.
At the center was one photograph.
Sophie.
Age five.
Standing beside Claire.
And Margaret Vale.
Written beneath it:
PROJECT ORCHARD — FINAL SUBJECT.
My hands shook.
Lena whispered,
“She was chosen before your wife died.”
I stared at the photograph.
Then heard footsteps behind us.
Margaret stepped onto the stage.
“You should have left the past buried.”
I turned.
May you like
She smiled.
“She looks just like her mother.”
