Chapter 10 - WHAT THE BOY HEARD
Six months later, Marcus still talked about the mansion.
But only sometimes.
Most days, he was just a little boy again.
He played with toy cars.
He complained about vegetables.
He asked too many questions.
And he slept peacefully.
I had a small apartment now.
A real one.
No hidden rooms.
No armed guards.
No locked doors.
Dominic visited twice a week.
At first, Marcus called him Mr. Dominic.
Then Dominic became Uncle Dom.
Neither of us corrected him.
Dominic had sold most of what remained of his criminal organization.
The money was frozen.
The accounts were investigated.
Some people went to prison.
Others disappeared before authorities could reach them.
Dominic cooperated fully.
He never pretended he was innocent.
He told me once that he had spent years believing fear was the price of power.
Now he understood something different.
Fear was simply another prison.
Claire reunited with her daughter.
Gabriel began working with investigators.
Rachel moved somewhere safe.
And my sister finally came home.
For the first time in years, our family sat around one table without wondering who might be listening.
It should have been the end.
But one evening, Marcus came running into the kitchen.
“Mommy!”
I turned.
He was holding an old envelope.
“Where did you get that?”
“Uncle Dom gave it to me.”
I frowned.
Dominic hadn't mentioned any envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Dominic's mother.
Victor.
Dominic's father.
And someone else.
A young man.
I didn't recognize him.
On the back was a date.
Thirty years earlier.
Then one sentence.
SUBJECT ZERO WAS NEVER FOUND.
My stomach tightened.
Dominic arrived twenty minutes later.
I showed him the photograph.
He stared at it.
“I've never seen this.”
“Then who is that?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Marcus climbed onto the sofa.
He studied the photograph.
Then pointed.
“Him.”
Dominic looked at him.
“What about him?”
Marcus frowned.
“He's the man from the room.”
My blood ran cold.
“What room?”
Marcus looked toward Dominic.
“The room with Mommy's picture.”
Dominic went pale.
“What picture?”
Marcus pointed toward the photograph.
“The picture was there.”
Dominic took the photograph from my hand.
On the edge of the image was a building.
A hospital.
The same hospital where Dominic had been treated.
The same hospital where Rachel had worked.
The same hospital where Marcus had somehow remembered Room 17.
Dominic turned the photograph over.
There was a second line beneath the first.
SUBJECT ZERO MOVED TO NEW LOCATION.
Then another.
PROJECT CONTINUES.
Dominic looked at me.
“They didn't destroy the program.”
My heart sank.
“You said they did.”
“I thought they did.”
Marcus suddenly touched his right ear.
I froze.
“Marcus?”
He looked at me.
“No bug.”
I exhaled.
Then he smiled.
“Just a sound.”
Dominic crouched beside him.
“What sound?”
Marcus tilted his head.
“Someone laughing.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Where?”
Marcus pointed toward the window.
Outside, across the street, a black sedan sat beneath a streetlamp.
Its engine was running.
The windows were tinted.
Then the car slowly drove away.
Dominic stood.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Finally, he looked at me.
“Pack a bag.”
My heart began pounding.
“Why?”
“Because if I'm right, Victor wasn't the beginning.”
He looked toward the disappearing car.
“And he wasn't the end.”
I held Marcus's hand.
“Are we in danger?”
Dominic looked at my son.
Then at me.
“No.”
He paused.
“Not yet.”
That night, Marcus fell asleep between us on the couch.
Dominic sat beside the window, watching the empty street.
For the first time, there was no fear in his face.
Only determination.
I sat beside him.
“You know, when I first met you, I thought you were the most frightening man I'd ever seen.”
He smiled.
“And now?”
I looked at Marcus.
“Now I think you're just a man who finally learned what matters.”
Dominic looked at my son.
“I did.”
He reached over and gently pulled the blanket over Marcus.
Then his phone vibrated.
One message.
No number.
No name.
Just a photograph.
A photograph of Marcus sleeping.
Taken from outside our apartment.
Beneath it were five words.
HE HEARD US BEFORE.
Dominic's smile disappeared.
I stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
He stood.
“It means somebody made one mistake.”
“What mistake?”
Dominic looked toward the window.
“They assumed the boy was only listening.”
He picked up his coat.
“But Marcus wasn't listening.”
He looked at me.
“He was remembering.”
And somewhere far away, inside a room no one had yet found, a monitor flickered to life.
A man's face appeared on the screen.
Older.
Calmer.
Watching a live image of Marcus sleeping.
The man leaned toward the camera.
“Begin Phase Two.”
The screen went black.
And for the first time, the person watching wasn't Victor.
It wasn't Dominic's mother.
It wasn't anyone we had ever heard of.
May you like
It was Subject Zero.
And he had been waiting thirty years for someone like Marcus.
