“Now choose which son survives.”

The voice whispered directly into Clara’s ear.

She turned around.

No one was there.

The hospital room was completely dark.

The nurse was gone.

The bed was empty.

The machines had stopped.

The windows were black.

Clara couldn’t hear anything except her own breathing.

“Mason?”

Nothing.

“Elias?”

Silence.

Then—

a light appeared at the end of the room.

A door.

Clara stared at it.

She knew that door.

Room 13.

She took a step backward.

“No.”

The door opened.

Her father stood inside.

Richard.

He looked exactly as he had twelve years ago.

Not older.

Not wounded.

Not dead.

Young.

Calm.

Smiling.

“Come inside, Clara.”

Clara shook her head.

“You’re not real.”

Richard smiled.

“Neither is this room.”

“Where am I?”

“Where you’ve always been.”

“Inside my mind?”

“Exactly.”

Clara stared at him.

“So the house is real.”

Richard’s expression changed.

“The house was never the important part.”

“Then what was?”

“You.”

Clara stepped closer.

“Why?”

“Because you were the first person who could remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Everything.”

Richard walked toward her.

“Most people forget.”

“Pain.”

“Fear.”

“Trauma.”

“But you didn’t.”

Clara felt a cold sensation move through her.

“What did you do to me?”

Richard smiled.

“I tried to fix you.”

“You destroyed me.”

“No.”

He shook his head.

“I discovered you.”

Clara stared.

“You took my children.”

Richard’s smile disappeared.

“They were necessary.”

“They were my sons.”

“One was an accident.”

Clara froze.

“What?”

Richard looked at her.

“Elias.”

Clara’s heart stopped.

“He was never supposed to exist.”

“You’re lying.”

“Your mother was pregnant before you were born.”

Clara stared.

“What?”

“She gave birth to you.”

“Then Elias?”

“Your mother had twins.”

Clara couldn’t breathe.

“Then why did you say he was my son?”

Richard smiled.

“Because he was.”

“No.”

“Your mother was your mother.”

“And you?”

“Your father.”

“Then how—”

Richard stepped closer.

“You were nineteen when you became pregnant.”

Clara shook her head.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

“With whom?”

Richard didn’t answer.

Clara suddenly remembered.

A boy.

A young man.

Someone she had loved.

Someone she had forgotten.

“Who was his father?”

Richard smiled.

“You don’t remember.”

“Who?”

“David.”

Clara froze.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“David?”

“Your editor.”

“My friend?”

“Your accomplice.”

Clara shook her head.

“No.”

Richard continued.

“David was twenty-two.”

“You were nineteen.”

“You fell in love.”

Clara couldn’t breathe.

“You had a child.”

“Elias.”

Richard looked away.

“And then everything changed.”

“What happened?”

“David wanted to leave.”

“Leave?”

“The project.”

“The house.”

“Me.”

Clara stared.

“And you?”

“I couldn’t let him.”

“Why?”

“Because he knew too much.”

Clara felt sick.

“You killed him?”

Richard smiled.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I erased him.”

Clara stepped backward.

“What does that mean?”

Richard’s voice became quiet.

“I removed David from your memory.”

Clara stared.

“You forgot the man you loved.”

“You forgot the father of your child.”

“You forgot Elias.”

“And then I gave you a new family.”

Clara’s eyes filled with tears.

“Mason.”

Richard nodded.

“The replacement.”

“But why?”

“Because you kept remembering.”

Clara closed her eyes.

Memories began appearing.

A young David.

Holding her hand.

Kissing her.

A baby crying.

Elias.

Her son.

Richard taking the baby.

Clara screaming.

Then—

Mason.

The replacement.

A boy with Elias’s memories.

Clara opened her eyes.

“You took Elias.”

“Yes.”

“And replaced him with Mason.”

“Yes.”

“But why call him Mason?”

Richard smiled.

“Because Mason was the brother you thought you had.”

Clara stared.

“I never had a brother.”

“Correct.”

“Then who was Mason?”

Richard’s expression became cold.

“An experiment.”

---

The room changed.

Clara was suddenly standing in a large laboratory.

Glass chambers surrounded her.

People were inside.

The same twenty prisoners.

But now they were children.

Clara looked around.

“What is this?”

“The beginning.”

Richard walked beside her.

“You weren’t the first experiment.”

“Who was?”

“Your brother.”

Clara turned.

“You said I never had one.”

“That’s what you believe.”

Richard pointed toward a chamber.

Inside was a young boy.

Clara recognized him.

Mason.

The replacement.

“He was created from Elias’s memories.”

Clara stared.

“Then why does he look different?”

“Because he was genetically modified.”

“To look like me?”

“To look like your brother.”

Clara shook her head.

“You made him.”

“Yes.”

“Why did he think he was Mason?”

“Because I gave him Mason’s memories.”

“Memories of a person who never existed?”

Richard smiled.

“Exactly.”

Clara felt sick.

“But Mason existed.”

“No.”

“He was a fictional identity.”

“Yes.”

“Then why did I believe he was my brother?”

“Because you wanted a brother.”

Clara stared.

Richard continued.

“Your mind created the idea of a brother long before we created Mason.”

“Why?”

“Because you were lonely.”

Clara’s voice broke.

“So I imagined him?”

“Yes.”

“And you made him real?”

“Yes.”

Clara looked at the boy.

“What happened to him?”

“He became attached to you.”

“He’s my brother.”

“That’s what you taught him.”

“He loves me.”

Richard smiled.

“That’s what makes him dangerous.”

Clara stared.

“Why?”

“Because he stopped being an experiment.”

Richard looked at her.

“He became human.”

---

A loud sound came from somewhere behind them.

Clara turned.

The laboratory was empty.

Richard was gone.

She was standing alone.

Then she heard a voice.

“Mother.”

Clara turned.

Elias stood in front of her.

Not a child.

A young man.

Twenty-one.

Alive.

Clara couldn’t breathe.

“Elias.”

He smiled.

“Hello.”

She moved toward him.

“You’re real.”

“Yes.”

She touched his face.

Warm.

Real.

Alive.

Clara started crying.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I know.”

“I searched for you.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you come home?”

Elias looked away.

“Because I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of you.”

Clara stepped backward.

“Me?”

“You killed me.”

“No.”

“You tried.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You knew.”

“I was manipulated.”

“You still held the knife.”

Clara began crying.

“I didn’t know you were my son.”

Elias looked at her.

“Does that make it better?”

Clara couldn’t answer.

Elias stepped closer.

“You forgot me.”

“I was forced.”

“You forgot my face.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You forgot my name.”

“I didn’t.”

“You forgot I existed.”

Clara shook her head.

“I remembered.”

“After twelve years.”

“I remembered.”

“Too late.”

Clara reached for him.

Elias stepped away.

“Don’t.”

“Please.”

“You don’t get to be my mother now.”

Clara’s heart broke.

“You’re my son.”

Elias stared at her.

“Then why did you kill me?”

“I didn’t.”

“You stabbed me.”

“I didn’t know who you were.”

“But you did it.”

Clara closed her eyes.

“Yes.”

Silence.

Then Elias whispered:

“I forgive you.”

Clara opened her eyes.

Elias was gone.

A new voice came from behind her.

“Don’t trust him.”

Clara turned.

Mason.

The replacement.

He stood in the doorway.

He looked frightened.

“Where is Elias?”

“He’s not here.”

“He was.”

“That wasn’t him.”

Clara frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Mason stepped closer.

“That was a memory.”

“Like the house?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“A recording.”

Clara stared.

“What?”

“They recorded Elias before he disappeared.”

“Why?”

“To manipulate you.”

“Who?”

Mason looked around.

“Your father.”

Clara shook her head.

“He’s dead.”

“No.”

“David shot him.”

“He survived.”

“How?”

Mason smiled bitterly.

“Because your father doesn’t die.”

Clara stared.

“What does that mean?”

Mason pointed toward the floor.

“Look.”

A crack appeared beneath them.

Darkness.

Then a hand.

Clara stepped backward.

Mason grabbed her.

“Run!”

They ran.

The laboratory began collapsing.

Glass shattered.

Alarms screamed.

People inside the chambers woke.

The doors opened.

The prisoners escaped.

Clara ran beside Mason.

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

“The real house.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where your father is.”

Clara stopped.

“Why would we go there?”

“Because Elias is there.”

Clara stared.

“You said he was dead.”

“I was wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I saw him.”

“Where?”

Mason looked at her.

“Under the house.”

Clara froze.

“What?”

“He survived.”

“Then why didn’t he come out?”

Mason’s face became pale.

“Because your father kept him there.”

Clara started running again.

“Then we save him.”

Mason shook his head.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s not alone.”

“Who is with him?”

Mason stopped.

“The others.”

---

They reached the surface.

The night air hit Clara’s face.

The hospital was gone.

The city was gone.

Everything had changed.

They were standing on the old road.

The road leading to the house.

Clara stared.

The house stood at the end.

Exactly as it had been.

Waiting.

Mason stood beside her.

“Welcome back.”

Clara looked at him.

“How do we get inside?”

Mason pointed toward the door.

“It’s open.”

Clara stepped forward.

The front door opened.

A voice came from inside.

“Come home.”

Clara entered.

Mason followed.

The house was silent.

No David.

No Richard.

No Elias.

Only darkness.

Clara walked toward the staircase.

A photograph lay on the floor.

She picked it up.

It showed her father.

Standing beside a young woman.

Clara stared.

She knew the woman.

Her mother.

But her mother was holding a baby.

Two babies.

Twins.

Clara and Elias.

Clara turned the photograph over.

There was a date.

TWENTY-ONE YEARS AGO.

Then another date.

TWELVE YEARS AGO.

Someone had written beneath it:

ONE DIED.

ONE DISAPPEARED.

ONE WAS CREATED.

Clara looked at Mason.

“Which one are you?”

Mason didn’t answer.

“Tell me.”

He looked at the photograph.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Clara stepped closer.

“Who are you?”

Mason looked at her.

“I was created to be your brother.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you Mason?”

“No.”

“Are you Elias?”

“No.”

“Then who are you?”

Mason’s eyes filled with tears.

“Someone who loves you.”

Clara froze.

Mason continued.

“I don’t know what name belongs to me.”

“But I know one thing.”

“I would die for you.”

Clara hugged him.

For a moment, everything was silent.

Then—

a gunshot.

Mason fell.

Clara screamed.

“Mason!”

He collapsed into her arms.

Blood spread across his chest.

Clara looked toward the staircase.

David stood there.

Gun in hand.

Clara stared at him.

“Why?”

David looked at Mason.

“Because he was never supposed to survive.”

Clara held Mason tightly.

“You shot him.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

David stepped closer.

“Because he’s the reason Elias escaped.”

Clara looked at Mason.

He was still alive.

Barely.

David continued.

“Your father created him to replace your brother.”

“But he didn’t expect something.”

“What?”

“He developed his own memories.”

Clara looked at Mason.

David’s voice became cold.

“He remembered everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

“The house.”

“The project.”

“The people.”

“And you.”

Clara’s eyes filled with tears.

“Why did you shoot him?”

“Because he remembered where Elias is.”

“Where?”

David pointed toward the basement.

“Under the house.”

Clara looked toward the stairs.

“Then let’s go.”

David shook his head.

“You don’t understand.”

“What?”

“Elias doesn’t want to be rescued.”

Clara froze.

“Why?”

David looked at her.

“Because he knows the truth.”

“What truth?”

David whispered:

“You didn’t kill Elias.”

Clara’s heart stopped.

“Then who did?”

David looked at Mason.

“Your mother.”

Clara froze.

“My mother?”

David nodded.

“She killed Elias.”

Clara shook her head.

“My mother died.”

“No.”

David looked toward the basement.

“She’s alive.”

Clara couldn’t speak.

“Where?”

David smiled.

“Under the house.”

A woman’s voice came from the darkness.

“Clara.”

Clara turned.

Her mother stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Older.

Alive.

Clara stared.

“Mom?”

Her mother smiled.

“Hello, my child.”

Clara couldn’t move.

“You died.”

“No.”

“You were dead.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Her mother looked at Mason.

“Because your father made sure you believed that too.”

Clara looked between them.

Her mother slowly walked upstairs.

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To your brother.”

Clara shook her head.

“Which one?”

Her mother’s eyes filled with tears.

“That’s the question.”

Suddenly, the house began shaking.

The walls cracked.

The floor moved.

David looked terrified.

“She’s awake.”

Clara turned.

“Who?”

Her mother whispered:

“The first Clara.”

Clara froze.

“What?”

Her mother looked at her.

“The woman your father created before you.”

Clara stared.

“Another me?”

Her mother nodded.

“Your father made a copy of you.”

“Why?”

“Because he couldn’t control the original.”

Clara felt dizzy.

“Then who am I?”

Her mother smiled.

“You’re the second.”

Silence.

Clara looked at her reflection in the window.

For the first time—

she didn’t recognize herself.

Her mother stepped closer.

“The first Clara is still alive.”

“Where?”

Her mother pointed toward the basement.

“She’s waiting for you.”

Clara whispered:

“Why?”

Her mother’s face became terrified.

“Because she wants her life back.”

The basement door opened.

A woman stepped out.

Clara.

Exactly like her.

Same face.

Same hair.

Same eyes.

But older.

Scarred.

Broken.

The woman stared at Clara.

Then she smiled.

“Finally.”

Clara couldn’t breathe.

The woman walked closer.

“Do you know what they did to me?”

Clara shook her head.

The woman pointed at her.

“They gave you my life.”

Clara stepped backward.

The woman smiled.

“And now I’m taking it back.”

She raised a gun.

David raised his.

Mason was lying wounded on the floor.

Clara’s mother screamed.

“Don’t!”

The first Clara pulled the trigger.

The lights went out.

And in the darkness—

someone grabbed Clara.

A hand covered her mouth.

A voice whispered:

“Don’t scream.”

Clara recognized the voice.

Elias.

Her son.

Alive.

“Mother.”

Clara struggled.

“Listen to me.”

He pulled her toward the basement.

“Your father is lying.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

“Where is Mason?”

“He’s alive.”

“David shot him.”

“I know.”

“Who is the first Clara?”

Elias stopped.

He looked at her.

“She’s not the first.”

Clara froze.

“Then who?”

Elias whispered:

“She’s you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Then who am I?”

Elias stared at her.

“You’re the third.”

Clara couldn’t breathe.

“Third?”

“Your father didn’t create one replacement.”

He opened a hidden door.

Behind it was a room.

Inside were dozens of photographs.

Clara.

Clara.

Clara.

Hundreds of versions.

Different ages.

Different faces.

Different lives.

Elias whispered:

“You’re one of thirty-seven.”

Clara stared.

“No.”

“Your father created thirty-seven versions of you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was trying to find the perfect memory.”

Clara looked at the photographs.

“And the others?”

Elias looked at her.

“They’re still alive.”

“Where?”

Elias pointed deeper into the basement.

“Under the house.”

Clara looked at him.

“How many?”

Elias whispered:

“Thirty-six.”

Then—

a voice came from behind them.

Richard.

“Thirty-seven.”

Clara turned.

Her father stood there.

Alive.

Holding Mason’s bloodied body.

Clara screamed.

“Mason!”

Richard smiled.

“He’s not dead.”

Clara stepped forward.

“Put him down.”

Richard shook his head.

“Come with me.”

“No.”

Richard raised a knife to Mason’s throat.

Clara froze.

“Or he dies.”

Elias stepped forward.

“Let him go.”

Richard smiled.

“You’re the reason all of this happened.”

Elias stared.

“You stole my life.”

“No.”

Richard looked at Clara.

“She did.”

Clara froze.

Richard continued.

“Ask your mother.”

Clara turned.

Her mother was crying.

“Mom?”

Her mother whispered:

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Your father didn’t take your memories.”

Clara stared.

“Then who did?”

Her mother looked at Elias.

“Your son.”

Clara froze.

“What?”

“He asked us to erase you.”

“Why?”

“Because he knew what you would become.”

Clara stared at Elias.

“No.”

Elias looked at her.

His face was full of sadness.

“I was trying to save you.”

“From what?”

Elias whispered:

“From yourself.”

The house began shaking violently.

The walls cracked.

The floor opened.

A deep roar came from beneath them.

Richard smiled.

“It’s time.”

Clara looked around.

“What time?”

Richard pointed toward the basement.

“Time for all of you to remember.”

The lights went out.

Then every door in the house opened.

Thirty-six women stepped into the hallway.

Every single one looked like Clara.

They all stared at her.

And together—

they spoke.

“Which one of us is the real one?”

Clara couldn’t answer.

Then Mason whispered from Richard’s arms:

“None of you.”

Everyone turned.

Mason looked at Clara.

“You are not the third.”

Clara stepped forward.

“Then who am I?”

Mason looked at her.

His final words before losing consciousness were:

“You’re the original.”

The house fell silent.

Richard’s face turned white.

For the first time—

he looked terrified.

Because Clara finally understood.

The entire experiment had been a lie.

She wasn’t created.

She wasn’t a replacement.

She wasn’t a copy.

She was the first.

The others were copies of her.

And the memories of Mason and Elias—

had been stolen from her.

Clara looked at Richard.

“You didn’t erase me.”

Richard stepped backward.

“You copied me.”

Richard shook his head.

“No.”

Clara smiled.

“You were afraid of what I would remember.”

Richard whispered:

“Clara…”

She stepped closer.

“And now I remember.”

Suddenly, every copy of Clara turned toward Richard.

The house doors slammed shut.

Richard was trapped.

Clara looked at him.

“Now it’s your turn to forget.”

Richard screamed.

The house shook.

And somewhere beneath the floor—

a timer began counting down.

60

59

58

David looked at Clara.

“What did you do?”

Clara looked at the thirty-six copies.

Then at Elias.

Then at Mason.

And finally—

at her father.

“I remembered.”

The countdown continued.

57

56

55

And Clara realized the terrible truth.

The house wasn’t going to explode.

It was going to erase everyone inside.

Including her.

TO BE CONTINUED…