Chapter 8 - The Nine-Year Inversion
Ethan froze, his finger tightening on the trigger of his gun, his eyes darting frantically between the old doctor and the plastic tubing snaking into Olivia’s hand.
"Why?" Ethan spat, his voice laced with pure venom. "She was twenty-one years old! She was a nursing student! Why did you fake her death? Why keep her in this hole for nine years?!"
Dr. Vance took a slow step forward, his cane clicking on the wet concrete. "Because she was the perfect subject, Ethan. And because your father was about to ruin everything."
The old doctor gestured toward the far dark corner of the cellar, where a heavy steel medical cabinet stood locked, covered in digital monitoring equipment.
"Nine years ago, your father was diagnosed with early-stage Huntington’s disease," Dr. Vance explained, his tone shifting into the academic cadence of a lecturer. "He funded my lab with fifty million dollars to develop a neural regeneration therapy using embryonic stem cells. But he had moral qualms. He wanted to follow FDA protocols. He wanted to wait ten years for human trials."
"So you staged her accident," Ethan realized, the horrifying puzzle pieces clicking together in his mind. "You took her from the hospital before anyone saw her."
"Olivia had a rare blood profile," Dr. Vance said, a faint, monstrous smile touching his lips. "Her bone marrow produced a unique genetic protein that accelerated neural cell binding by eight hundred percent. She wasn't just a subject, Ethan. She was the factory. For nine years, her bone marrow has kept your father alive and lucid enough to sign over the Cole Enterprises dividend distribution checks to my foundation."
Ethan felt a wave of sickening vertigo wash over him. "My father... my father knew she was alive?"
"Of course not!" Dr. Vance scoffed. "Edward thought he was receiving synthetic treatments imported from Switzerland! He died three months ago thinking he was cured, leaving the foundation fully funded in his will. But Olivia... Olivia kept producing. Until her body began to shut down six months ago."
"And the boy?" Ethan whispered, his chest aching as he thought of Leo sitting alone in the car upstairs.
"An unplanned variable," the doctor dismissed with a cold wave of his hand. "She was already pregnant when we brought her here after the staging on the highway. We let her carry the child to term because we thought the placental tissue might yield additional cellular material. Once the boy was born, he became the lever to keep her quiet. If she didn't cooperate with the marrow extractions, the boy suffered."
Ethan let out a low, guttural growl—a sound that was barely human.
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"You're a monster," Ethan hissed.
"I am a pioneer, Mr. Cole," Dr. Vance corrected sharply. "And you are currently trespassing on a research site. Now, lower the weapon, hand over your phone, and we can discuss the terms of your mother and son’s continued... survival."
