Chapter 5: The Document Proved Jenna Had Met Alex Before
Chapter 5: The Document Proved Jenna Had Met Alex Before
I couldn’t take my eyes off the document.
My father’s signature was at the bottom.
So was Ryan’s.
And beneath both names was Jenna’s.
The date was impossible.
Two years before I’d ever met her.
I looked at Jenna.
“Tell me this is fake.”
She didn’t answer.
“Jenna.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I’ve never seen that document before.”
“Your name is on it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
I held the paper closer.
The signature looked exactly like hers.
Not similar.
Exact.
Every curve.
Every letter.
Even the strange little line she always made beneath the final “r.”
I had watched her sign documents dozens of times.
That was her handwriting.
But she was shaking her head.
“I didn’t sign that.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
I looked at the other documents inside the box.
There were bank statements.
Property records.
Copies of passports.
A photograph of Ryan.
And one folder labeled:
PROJECT CARTER — PHASE TWO
I opened it.
The first page contained a list of names.
My father.
Ryan.
Daniel.
Several people I didn’t recognize.
And Jenna.
But next to Jenna’s name was a handwritten note.
Identity established. Continue observation.
I looked up.
“What does that mean?”
Jenna stepped backward.
“I don’t know.”
I flipped the page.
There were photographs.
Jenna entering an office building.
Jenna sitting in a restaurant.
Jenna walking through an airport.
Some were dated years before I met her.
She wasn’t just in the file.
She had been watched.
For years.
“Someone was following you.”
She stared at the photographs.
“I never knew.”
I turned another page.
Then I saw something that made my hands go numb.
A photograph of me.
Taken outside my apartment.
The date was six months before Jenna and I started dating.
I was standing beside my car, carrying groceries.
Someone had circled me in red ink.
Underneath was a note.
Primary subject.
I looked at Jenna.
“Why was I being watched?”
She didn’t know.
Or she was pretending not to.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice came through.
“You found the box.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“You should have left it alone.”
“Ryan?”
“No.”
The voice laughed softly.
“You really think your brother is the one controlling this?”
“Where is he?”
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
“What question should I ask?”
“Why your father created the program in the first place.”
I looked at Jenna.
“What program?”
Silence.
Then:
“Ask her.”
The call ended.
Jenna stared at me.
“You heard that.”
“Yes.”
“Alex, I swear to you, I don’t know what your father was involved in.”
I believed she didn’t know everything.
But I also knew she hadn’t told me everything.
I pointed toward the documents.
“You knew about Ryan.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Northstar.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Mark was working for him.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t know about this?”
“No.”
I nodded.
“Then help me figure it out.”
She looked surprised.
“You still want my help?”
“I don’t know if I trust you.”
“That makes two of us.”
“What does that mean?”
She swallowed.
“I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore.”
We went through the documents together.
For nearly an hour, we found nothing that explained the signature.
Then Jenna picked up an old photograph.
It showed my father standing beside a woman.
She looked familiar.
Jenna stared at her.
“Who is that?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know.”
She turned the photograph over.
There was a name.
Sarah Miller.
Jenna froze.
“My mother.”
I looked at her.
“Your mother?”
She nodded.
“She died when I was eleven.”
I stared at the photograph.
My father.
Jenna’s mother.
Standing together.
The date was twenty-seven years old.
“How did they know each other?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did your mother ever mention my father?”
“No.”
I searched through the box again.
There was another document.
A birth certificate.
I read it.
Then read it again.
My stomach dropped.
“Jenna.”
“What?”
“Look at this.”
She took the paper.
Her eyes widened.
The document was a copy of her original birth record.
But there was something strange.
The name listed as her father wasn’t the man who had raised her.
It was blank.
Under the section for additional information was a handwritten notation.
Biological father unknown.
Jenna started crying.
“I don’t understand.”
I looked at the date.
Then at my father’s photograph.
Then at the document bearing her signature.
A terrible possibility entered my mind.
I didn’t want to say it.
But Jenna noticed my expression.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Alex.”
I shook my head.
“We need a DNA test.”
She stared at me.
“You think…”
“I don’t know what I think.”
Before she could answer, the office lights suddenly went out.
We both froze.
A second later, the emergency lights came on.
My computer screen turned black.
Then a message appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED LOOKING.
Jenna grabbed my hand.
“Alex.”
The office door handle moved.
Slowly.
Someone was outside.
I reached for the metal box.
“Get behind me.”
The handle stopped.
Then came three knocks.
I looked at Jenna.
She whispered,
“That’s how Ryan used to knock.”
I opened the door.
Nobody was there.
Only an envelope lay on the floor.
I picked it up.
My name was written on it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Ryan was standing beside my father.
Both of them were alive.
The date was five years ago.
The year everyone said Ryan had died.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
There was a third person in the photograph.
Jenna’s mother.
And beneath the picture was a handwritten sentence:
Your father didn’t create Project Carter. He inherited it.
I turned the photograph over.
Another sentence was written on the back.
And Jenna was born because of it.
Jenna read it over my shoulder.
Her face went completely white.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Ryan.
Alex, don’t let Jenna leave the building.
A second message arrived immediately.
She isn’t the one you should be afraid of.
Then a final message appeared.
Your father is alive.