Chapter 6 - The Butler Everyone Trusted Had Been Carrying Boxes Into the Mansion for Months—and the Twins Knew Exactly What Was Inside ThemThomas Reed had keys to every room.
He controlled deliveries.
He knew every hallway.
He had access to the basement.
And security logs showed him entering the greenhouse repeatedly.
Nathan confronted him.
Thomas looked calm.
"You know me."
"That's why I'm asking."
Thomas sighed.
"I delivered supplies."
"What supplies?"
"Cleaning materials."
Nathan stared.
"Into a locked laboratory?"
Thomas lowered his eyes.
"I made mistakes."
"What did you deliver?"
"Equipment."
"For whom?"
Thomas looked at me.
"Dr. Reeves."
"Did you know what it was?"
"No."
"You're lying."
Thomas finally broke.
He admitted he had been paid.
But not by Reeves.
By Arthur Kane.
He believed he was delivering medical supplies.
He didn't know the details.
Then he gave us something.
A delivery manifest.
Boxes marked with a pharmaceutical company.
Dates.
Locations.
One shipment had arrived three days before the twins first became sick.
And the address wasn't the mansion.
It was Nathan's old warehouse.
We went there.
Inside were dozens of sealed crates.
Chemical compounds.
Research devices.
Medical equipment.
And a room containing photographs of Jacob and Jonah.
Thomas started crying.
"I didn't know."
Nathan stared at the photographs.
"No."
He understood.
"This has been planned since before they were born."
I looked at the dates.
The first photograph had been taken five years earlier.
During the twins' mother's pregnancy.
Someone had been monitoring her too.
We found her prenatal records.
There were abnormal blood results.
Signs of exposure.
She had been sick before the boys were born.
Nathan sat down.
"She knew."
"What?"
"She knew something was wrong."
He remembered her telling him the house smelled strange.
He had dismissed it.
Dr. Reeves had told him she was anxious.
Now the truth was obvious.
She had been exposed before the twins.
She hadn't died naturally.
She had been poisoned too.
The same poison.
The same experiment.
Nathan's grief became anger.
Then we found a video.
His wife speaking to the camera.
"If you're watching this, Nathan, something happened to me."
He froze.
She said:
"Do not trust Reeves."
"Do not trust your father."
"And please, listen to whoever asks about the air in the house."
She paused.
Then:
"The boys are not sick."
"They are being poisoned."
Nathan closed his eyes.
The video ended.
For months, he had paid doctors millions to find an illness that didn't exist.
The illness was an attack.
And his wife had known.
Then a message appeared on the warehouse screen.
YOU FOUND PHASE ONE.
NOW FIND THE GIRL.
I looked at Nathan.
"What girl?"
The screen displayed a photograph.
Me.
Taken years earlier.
May you like
I froze.
Someone had been watching me too.
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