Chapter 9: The Institute That Never Existed
The countdown was the only sound in the archive.
23:59:41...
23:59:40...
Nobody spoke.
Nobody even seemed to breathe.
Damon stared at the black screen as though sheer will could force it to explain itself.
Finally, he whispered,
"...Evelyn volunteered?"
Grace looked toward Marcus.
"Tell me that's a lie."
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he unplugged the monitor from the wall.
The screen went dark.
The countdown continued.
Only now it came from somewhere deeper inside the room.
Hidden speakers.
Hidden systems.
The archive itself was alive.
"It was designed to do this," Marcus said quietly.
"What?"
"To make you doubt the only people you still trust."
Grace looked unconvinced.
"So Evelyn didn't betray them?"
Marcus met her eyes.
"I don't know."
"And I refuse to guess."
He turned toward Damon.
"That message wasn't meant to tell you the truth."
"It was meant to control your next decision."
Damon clenched his fists.
"I need answers."
"So do they."
Marcus nodded toward the invisible speakers.
"They know exactly what you'll do."
"You'll go to the Harbor Institute."
"And they'll be waiting."
Damon didn't deny it.
Because Marcus was right.
Eli tugged gently on Grace's sleeve.
"I remember something else."
Grace immediately knelt beside him.
"What is it?"
"The building."
Marcus crouched as well.
"Take your time."
The boy squeezed his eyes shut.
"It smelled..."
He frowned.
"Like rain."
Grace blinked.
"Rain?"
"And medicine."
Marcus's face changed.
Hospitals.
Disinfectant.
Moist concrete.
He had smelled it before.
Years ago.
Only one place fit both descriptions.
"The Institute wasn't on the harbor," Marcus whispered.
Damon looked at him sharply.
"What?"
"It was underneath it."
Silence.
"The Harbor Institute wasn't a hospital."
"It was a research facility built beneath Pier Nine."
Grace frowned.
"I've never heard of it."
"You weren't supposed to."
Marcus took a slow breath.
"It officially burned down twenty-seven years ago."
"But..."
He looked at the countdown.
"It was never empty."
Damon walked deeper into the archive.
His attention stopped on a large wall map.
Every property owned by the Cross family was marked in silver.
Except one.
A small red circle sat beneath the coastline.
No label.
Only coordinates.
Marcus looked over his shoulder.
"There."
Grace leaned closer.
"What is it?"
"The original entrance."
Damon turned toward Marcus.
"You've been there."
Marcus nodded once.
"I was trained there."
Grace felt the room grow colder.
"You said they removed you."
"I said they erased me."
Marcus looked at the red circle.
"But they forgot something."
"What?"
"I remembered where the exits were."
Before anyone could respond—
A mechanical click echoed behind them.
The steel door slammed shut.
Heavy bolts shot into place.
One after another.
The archive lights flickered.
Every monitor came back to life.
But this time they showed only static.
Then—
A little girl appeared on every screen.
About eight years old.
Barefoot.
Wearing a white dress.
She looked directly into the cameras.
Then she smiled.
Grace's heart stopped.
"Eli..."
The boy was already crying.
"I know her."
Marcus's voice became almost inaudible.
"No..."
The girl spoke.
Her voice was soft.
"Eli."
He stepped forward instinctively.
"Don't!" Grace shouted.
He froze.
The girl tilted her head.
"You promised you'd come back."
Damon stared at the screen.
"Who is she?"
Eli whispered one impossible sentence.
"My sister."
The room fell into complete silence.
Grace looked from Eli...
...to Damon...
...to Marcus.
"No," Damon said immediately.
"Eli doesn't have a sister."
Marcus never took his eyes off the screen.
He looked as though every certainty he possessed had just fractured.
Finally, he spoke.
"No..."
"He wasn't supposed to."
The girl's smile slowly faded.
She looked directly into the camera.
Then, with heartbreaking sadness, she said,
"They made all of you forget me."
The screens instantly went black.
At the same moment, somewhere deep beneath the mansion...
May you like
a little girl's laughter echoed through the walls.
And it wasn't coming from the speakers.
