Chapter 6: Which One of Us Is Real
For a moment, I thought my mother had finally lost her mind.
Then the voice inside the yellow room spoke again.
“Ryan?””
It was mine.
Exactly mine.
I stared at the open doorway.
Yellow light spilled across the stairs, touching the old wood beneath our feet.
Megan whispered, “What does she mean?””
My mother wiped the tears from her face.
“She means the boy you remember being isn't the boy you were born as.””
I couldn't look away from the room.
“Then who am I?””
She didn't answer.
“Mom.””
Her voice broke.
“I don't know anymore.””
The sentence hit harder than any answer could have.
I stepped into the yellow room.
My mother grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.””
I pulled free.
“I've spent my entire life being told what I am.””
My voice shook.
“I'm done listening.””
Megan followed me.
“Ryan, I'm with you.””
Emma stayed at the doorway.
She was staring at the three beds.
Then she pointed at the middle one.
“That was mine.””
My stomach tightened.
“You slept here?””
She nodded.
“When?””
“When I was little.””
“How little?””
“Four.””
Megan looked at my mother.
“You told us she was eight when you found her.””
“I lied.””
Emma walked slowly toward the bed.
Her fingers brushed the rusted metal frame.
“I used to hide under here.””
She looked at me.
“That's where he couldn't see me.””
“Who?””
She glanced at the ceiling camera.
“Dr. Voss.””
I looked up.
The camera lens was black.
Dead.
Or pretending to be.
My mother entered behind us and closed the door.
“We can't stay here.””
“We're not leaving until you tell me the truth.””
She looked at the three names on the wall.
“Okay.””
Her voice had become strangely calm.
“The first child was Michael.””
She pointed to his name.
“He was born strong, but he developed seizures after the procedure.””
Then she pointed to mine.
“Ryan was the second.””
She swallowed.
“He was healthier.””
I frowned.
“You keep saying 'was.''”
My mother nodded.
“Because after the transfer, neither name meant what it meant before.””
Megan stepped closer.
“What exactly did they transfer?””
“My father's memories.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She shook her head.
“Not your father's. Michael's.””
She touched the wall.
“They used Michael's memories as the foundation.””
My stomach twisted.
“Why?””
“Because Michael had begun remembering things no child should have known.””
“What things?””
“He remembered Voss's research.””
I stared at her.
“How?””
“The treatments affected his memory unusually.””
Voss had said something similar.
Patterns.
Identity.
Memory.
My mother continued.
“He remembered conversations. Faces. Rooms.
Dates. He could describe events that happened before he was born.””
Megan frowned.
“That sounds impossible.””
My mother nodded.
“It should have been.””
“Then what was happening?””
“He wasn't remembering his own life.””
She looked at me.
“He was remembering the lives of the people around him.””
Silence.
Emma whispered, “Like me.””
My mother looked at her.
“Yes.””
Emma's eyes filled with fear.
“What do I remember?””
My mother crouched beside her.
“That is what Voss wants.””
I felt anger rise again.
“Stop speaking around it.””
My mother stood.
“Voss discovered that certain children with the marker could retain fragments of other people's memories.””
I touched the birthmark beneath my ear.
“So that's what the mark means.””
“Yes.””
“It's genetic.””
“Yes.””
“And he wanted to reproduce it.””
“Yes.””
Megan crossed her arms.
“By experimenting on children.””
My mother nodded.
Then Emma said quietly, “He wanted to make someone who could remember everyone.””
I looked at her.
“Who told you that?””
She pointed at the wall.
“He did.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Who is 'everyone'?””
She looked directly at me.
“You.””
Then Michael spoke from somewhere behind the wall.
“Me too.””
I turned.
“Michael, where are you?””
“I don't know.””
My mother went pale.
“What do you mean you don't know?””
His voice sounded smaller.
“He moves me.””
“Who?””
“Voss.””
My mother looked toward the ceiling.
“He's moving through the old service tunnels.””
I stared at her.
“You knew about all of this.””
“I knew enough.””
“Then why stay here?””
“Because if I left, he would've followed you.””
I couldn't breathe.
She continued.
“Your father believed the house was the only place he couldn't track you.””
“But he found us anyway.””
“No.””
She looked at the yellow room.
“He didn't find us.””
My mother's eyes settled on the camera.
“He never stopped watching.””
The camera clicked.
All four of us froze.
A tiny red light appeared.
Megan whispered, “It's recording.””
My mother turned toward it.
“Voss.””
The speaker crackled.
Then came his voice.
“Hello, Evelyn.””
Emma screamed.
I moved in front of her.
“Show yourself.””
Voss laughed.
“You've already seen me.””
“What do you want?””
“To finish what we started.””
“You're insane.””
“That's not a scientific term.””
Megan shouted, “You're holding a child prisoner!””
“Several children,” he corrected.
My fists tightened.
“Where's Caleb?””
Silence.
Then:
“Alive.””
“Where?””
“Somewhere you'd rather not visit.””
I heard another sound.
A faint knock.
Three times.
Michael.
I stepped toward the wall.
“Michael?””
“Ryan.””
His voice was weak.
“He's coming.””
Voss spoke through the speaker.
“Yes.””
My mother looked terrified.
“Elias, don't.””
“You took one of my subjects.””
She shook her head.
“You mean a child.””
“I mean my work.””
My voice rose.
“You are not taking anyone.””
Voss was silent for a moment.
Then he said something that made me stop.
“That's the problem, Ryan.””
“What?””
“You still think you're the one making decisions.””
The speaker clicked off.
The room fell silent.
Then every light in the yellow room turned on.
The three old beds were suddenly illuminated.
I saw writing scratched into the wall beside the first bed.
*M*
Beside the second:
*R*
Beside the third:
*E*
Emma began crying.
“I remember.””
My mother whispered, “Don't.””
“I remember.””
Emma backed toward Megan.
“There were two boys.””
I turned toward her.
“What boys?””
“Ryan and Michael.””
She pressed both hands to her head.
“They kept asking me which one was real.””
“Who?””
“The doctors.””
“What did you tell them?””
She looked at me.
“I said neither.””
A sound came from the corridor.
A lock turning.
My mother immediately moved toward the door.
“We have to go.””
The door slammed shut.
She pulled the handle.
Nothing.
“Mom?””
She stared at the lock.
“They sealed it.””
Megan rushed over.
“Can you open it?””
“No.””
I heard footsteps outside.
Slow.
One.
Two.
Three.
Emma whispered, “He's coming.””
I looked around the room.
Three beds.
Three names.
A camera.
A ventilation grate.
No obvious exit.
Then I noticed something beneath the second bed.
A loose floorboard.
I dropped to my knees and pulled it up.
Inside was a small metal box.
I opened it.
A cassette tape.
A key.
And an old photograph.
I picked up the photograph.
It showed my father standing in the yellow room.
He was holding a baby.
Behind him stood my mother.
And beside her was another woman I'd never seen.
The woman wore a hospital badge.
I turned the picture over.
My father had written a note.
*If Ryan asks, tell him the truth. If Michael asks, tell him nothing.*
My hands began shaking.
“Why would Dad write that?””
My mother whispered, “Because he wasn't talking about the children.””
I looked at her.
“What was he talking about?””
“The names.””
I didn't understand.
She pointed at the two boys in the photograph.
“One of them was born Ryan.””
She pointed at the other.
“One of them was born Michael.””
Then she pointed at me.
“And your father didn't know which one he had brought home.””
The floorboard beneath us creaked.
Not from my weight.
From underneath.
Something moved below the room.
Emma screamed.
I jumped back.
A hidden panel in the floor shifted.
Then a small hand pushed through the gap.
Michael.
He pulled himself upward.
He was older than I'd imagined.
Maybe eleven.
His hair was longer.
His face was dirty.
But his eyes were mine.
He stared at me.
We looked at each other for several seconds.
Then he smiled sadly.
“You took so long.””
My throat tightened.
“Michael?””
He nodded.
I moved toward him.
“You're alive.””
“I know.””
I dropped to my knees.
He threw his arms around me.
His body was freezing.
I held him tightly.
“I thought you were dead.””
“I thought you were.””
Megan covered her mouth.
My mother turned away.
Michael pulled back.
He studied my face.
Then his expression changed.
“You don't remember me.””
“I didn't know you existed.””
He shook his head.
“No.””
“What?””
“You don't remember because they gave you my life.””
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?””
Michael touched my face.
“You remember the house.””
“Yes.””
“You remember Mom singing.””
“Yes.””
“You remember Dad teaching you to ride a bike.””
“Yes.””
He whispered:
“Those are my memories.””
I stared at him.
He stepped back.
“And I remember dying.””
The room went silent.
“What?””
Michael pointed to the yellow bed.
“That night.””
He swallowed.
“They put me there.””
My mother began sobbing.
Michael continued.
“They told me I was going to wake up as you.””
I could barely speak.
“What happened?””
“I woke up.””
“And?””
He looked at me.
“But you were already wearing my memories.””
A pounding shook the wall.
Voss's voice erupted from the speaker.
“Enough.””
Michael screamed.
“Run!””
The floor beneath us split open.
A section dropped away.
My mother shoved Emma toward Megan.
“Back!””
A metal staircase appeared beneath the floor.
And from the darkness below came footsteps.
Voss was climbing up.
Michael grabbed my hand.
He looked directly into my eyes.
“There are three of us.””
I stared at him.
“Three?””
He nodded.
“Me.””
He pointed at me.
“You.””
Then he pointed at Emma.
“And her.””
Emma backed away.
“What's the third secret?””
Michael's eyes filled with tears.
“The baby they never found.””
Behind us, the sealed door suddenly opened.
My mother's face went white.
Because standing on the other side was a woman holding an old hospital bracelet.
May you like
She looked at me and whispered:
“Ryan, you're looking for the wrong missing child.””
