Nobody moved.Alistair Thorne stood in the doorway, looking older than Varek remembered from the photographs. His hair was almost completely white, and his face carried deep lines. But his eyes were the same.Cold.Calculating.Alive.Varek slowly reached for the gun beneath his jacket.“Don’t,” Alistair said. “You wouldn’t want to shoot the only person who can explain why you were born.”Varek pulled out the gun anyway.“Give me one reason not to.”Alistair glanced at the weapon.“Because the child beside Jonathan is carrying a secret that could destroy you.”Samuel stepped behind Jonathan.The old man placed a protective hand on his shoulder, but Varek noticed something strange.Jonathan wasn’t protecting the boy.He was holding him in place.“Move away from him,” Varek ordered.Alistair entered the room.“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”“Why?”“Because Samuel is the only surviving witness to the original transfer.”Grace shook her head violently.“Don’t listen to him!”Alistair

Varek kept his gun pointed at the woman.Nobody in the original nursery moved.The woman stood at the end of the corridor, dressed in white. Her veil covered most of her face, but her voice was steady.“Put the gun down, Varek.”“Give me one reason.”“Because I am not your enemy.”He laughed bitterly.“That’s what everyone says before they betray me.”She slowly lifted the veil.Varek stared.Her face was old, but there was something familiar about her. Her eyes were dark, her nose narrow, and a small scar ran from her left cheek towards her ear.He had seen that scar before.In the photograph Eleanor kept hidden inside an old wooden box.“Mary Thorne,” he whispered.The woman nodded.“Yes.”“You’re supposed to be dead.”“So were you.”Varek tightened his grip on the gun.“Who are you to me?”She took a step forward.“Your grandmother.”“Prove it.”Mary smiled sadly.“You have a small scar beneath your left knee. You got it when you were four years old, after falling beside the stairc

Nobody spoke.Two men stood in the original nursery, wearing the same face.One stood beside Adrian.The other stood at the end of the corridor, dressed in a white medical coat.They had the same height, the same eyes, the same nose and even the same small scar beneath the right side of their jaws.Varek looked from one to the other.“Which one of you is Matthew?”The man beside Adrian answered immediately.“I am.”The second man smiled.“That’s what he has been telling you.”Adrian raised his gun.“Who are you?”The second man ignored him.His eyes were fixed on Samuel.“Come here, little one.”Samuel tightened his grip around Varek’s neck.“No!”The stranger smiled.“You remember me.”“I don’t want to!”“That’s not what you said the last time.”Varek stepped forward.“Stay away from him.”The stranger tilted his head.“You shouldn’t be holding him, Varek. He’s not yours.”“Then whose child is he?”“Mine.”A strange silence followed.Matthew, the man beside Adrian, stepped forward.“

The message remained on the computer screen.BRING THE CHILDREN.DO NOT BRING THEIR REPLACEMENTS.Varek read it again.Then he turned towards Jonathan.“What does that mean?”Jonathan looked exhausted.“It means someone has opened the original family register.”“Who?”“The girl.”Mary shook her head.“She wouldn’t do this.”Jonathan gave a bitter laugh.“You still think your granddaughter is the innocent little girl you lost?”Mary stepped towards him.“She was six years old!”“And she was already more dangerous than everyone in this room.”Varek grabbed Jonathan by the front of his shirt.“Stop speaking about her like she’s a weapon.”Jonathan looked directly into his eyes.“Then stop pretending you know what she is.”Adrian pulled Varek away.“We need to understand the message before we do anything.”Varek released Jonathan.“Who are the children?”Jonathan looked towards Samuel.“The original children. The ones who were assigned roles before the replacements were created.”Matthew

For several seconds, nobody spoke.The photograph remained on the screen, showing a young woman standing beside five children. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, and one hand rested gently on the shoulder of a little boy.She had Naomi’s face.Not someone who looked like Naomi.Not someone who shared a few features with her.It was Naomi.The same eyes. The same nose. The same small scar above her left eyebrow.Even the slight curve of her lips was identical.Beneath the photograph, the computer displayed three lines.ORIGINAL GUARDIAN: NAOMI THORNE.DATE: TWENTY-NINE YEARS AGO.STATUS: REMOVED FROM ACTIVE REGISTER.Varek stared at the screen.“Naomi,” he whispered.Adrian stepped closer. “That’s impossible.”“Do you know her?” Varek asked.Adrian shook his head. “I know Naomi. I know her history. I’ve seen her childhood photographs. That woman is her.”“Then explain how she could have been here twenty-nine years ago.”“I can’t.”The little girl approached the screen. She studied