Chapter 13 - The Woman Who Funded Haven
Celeste Rowan appeared on television the next morning.
Silver hair.
Soft voice.
A smile built for donors.
She denied everything.
"Haven was an independent pediatric research initiative. Rowan Longevity never authorized illegal activity."
Mara threw a pillow at the screen.
"Professional liar."
Elena did not look away.
"She taught me how to design trials."
Elias watched his daughter.
"You trusted her."
"I worshiped her."
"Then we're even."
Elena almost smiled.
The FBI could not board Celeste's yacht without jurisdiction.
So Elias used the one weapon he still had.
Money.
"Elias."
"Celeste."
"You always were theatrical."
"You used my company to experiment on my grandchildren."
"That is an emotionally convenient summary."
"Where is Russell?"
"Not here."
"Lie better."
She sighed.
"Your daughter made extraordinary discoveries."
"My daughter discovered crimes."
"History is full of discoveries that arrived through ugly processes."
Elias felt old rage rising.
"Children are not process."
"No. They're patients."
"They had codes."
"So do oncology trials."
"They were held against their will."
"By Russell."
"Funded by you."
Silence.
Then Celeste said, "You want the archive?"
"Yes."
"Come alone."
Elena shook her head violently.
Celeste continued.
"Bring no police, no reporter, no daughter."
"Where?"
"Pier Nine. Midnight."
The call ended.
Mara said, "Absolutely not."
Elias looked at his legs.
With braces and a walker, he had taken three steps that morning.
Three.
His body was changing.
So was the balance of power.
"I'm going."
Elena snapped, "You're not."
"She wants me."
"She wants leverage."
"Same thing."
He crossed his arms.
"She won't expect me."
"Because you're twelve," Elias said.
"People keep saying that like it's useful."
Ruby entered behind him.
"He's not going."
Mateo looked at her.
"You don't get to--"
"I do when you're being stupid."
Then Caleb appeared with a folded paper.
"Grandpa?"
Elias still wasn't used to the word.
"What is it?"
"I found it in Mom's bag."
Elena took the paper.
It was a hand-drawn diagram of Saint Orison.
On the back, in Elena's handwriting, was a list of access codes.
She frowned.
"I didn't write this."
Mateo looked at Tomas.
Tomas went pale.
"Mom didn't."
Everyone turned.
He swallowed.
"Grace did."
Elias stared at him.
"Grace is a baby."
Tomas shook his head.
"Not the words."
He pointed at the pattern of numbers.
"She drew the same pattern at Haven."
Elena looked closer.
The numbers were genetic base-pair coordinates.
Grace had not written them.
May you like
Someone had used her crib sheet to hide data.
And one coordinate matched the master archive's encryption key.
