2.A Single Father Thought He Was Saving Strangers From the River Until the Little Girl in His Arms Called Him Daddy

By morning, the storm had cleared, leaving behind a thick blanket of pristine white snow that muffled the sounds of the forest. Inside the cabin, the warmth of the wood stove had chased away the chill.

Ethan had stayed awake all night, sitting by the window with his service shotgun across his knees, watching the driveway. He had seen no signs of pursuit, but he knew they couldn't stay hidden forever.

Grace was sitting at the wooden table, nursing a cup of black coffee Ethan had brewed on the stove. Lily was playing on the rug with a set of old carved wooden blocks Ethan’s father had made decades ago.

"How did you get her out?" Ethan asked, sitting opposite Grace. "A high-security medical facility in Chicago isn't exactly easy to walk out of."

"I had help," Grace said, looking down at her cup. "A security guard named Marcus. He knew what they were doing was wrong. He helped me bypass the biometric locks on the nursery wing. But... they caught him. I heard shots as I was running down the fire escape. I don't think Marcus made it."

She shuddered, the memory clearly torturing her.

"I've been on the run for six months," she continued. "Moving from town to town, paying cash, sleeping in cheap motels. But they always find us. They have digital dragnets. Facial recognition on traffic cameras, license plate readers... that's why I had to steal the car in Chicago. My own car was flagged."

"We need to go on the offensive," Ethan said. "We can't just keep running. Eventually, we'll run out of road."

"But how?" Grace asked, looking hopeless. "They have millions of dollars, high-priced lawyers, and security forces that operate like private militaries."

"They might have all of that," Ethan said, "but they don't have the truth. And they don't have Sarah’s journals."

Grace looked up, surprised. "Sarah kept journals?"

"Yes," Ethan said, a slow realization dawning on him. "She wrote everything down. Her symptoms, her appointments, the names of the doctors she saw at Genesis. I kept them all in a box in our attic. I couldn't bear to look at them after she died, so I never opened them. But if Genesis was targeting us, she might have written down names or dates that we can use to tie them to the illegal cloning program."

"We have to go back to your house," Grace said, her voice rising in panic. "But they’ll be watching it!"

"They will," Ethan agreed. "Which is why we aren't going to walk through the front door."

Suddenly, the silence of the forest was broken by the distant, distinct sound of a snowmobile engine.

Ethan was on his feet in an instant, grabbing his shotgun from the wall. He moved to the window, peering through the frosted pane.

Through the thick pine trees, two snowmobiles were navigating the narrow trail leading up to the cabin. The riders wore all-black winter gear, their faces hidden behind dark visors.

"They found us," Grace gasped, grabbing Lily and pulling her behind the kitchen counter.

"Get in the cellar," Ethan commanded, his voice dead calm. "There’s a trapdoor under the rug in the pantry. Go. Now."