Chapter 22 - The Photograph That Should Not Exist
Daniel stared at the child in the photograph.
The same gray eyes.
The same scar above the eyebrow from a fall he barely remembered.
“That’s me.”
Elena stepped closer to the screen.
“No.”
Lydia looked at her.
“You recognize the room.”
Elena’s hands trembled.
“It was the old recovery wing.”
Daniel turned toward her.
“You told me I got this scar when I fell from a bicycle.”
“You were too young to remember the truth.”
Samuel enlarged the date printed beneath the photograph.
Daniel had been four years old.
Victor looked at Elena.
“You brought him to the trust after the fire.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“They found us.”
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“What happened?”
“The Director offered protection. He said Arthur was searching for you.”
Arthur laughed weakly from the floor.
“He was.”
Elena continued.
“They tested your hearing, your memory, your response to music.”
Daniel looked at the old man in the photograph.
“He touched me.”
“He selected you.”
Twelve spoke quietly.
“The Director always touches the chosen child’s shoulder.”
Julian looked at Daniel.
“You were trained before Clara and me.”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
“That may have been the point,” Samuel said.
The speakers activated again.
The Director’s voice entered the archive.
“Memory is not lost, Daniel. It is buried beneath rhythm.”
A metronome began clicking somewhere in the walls.
Daniel’s body reacted before his mind did.
His breathing slowed.
His right hand lifted slightly.
Elena rushed toward him.
“Cover your ears.”
The clicking continued.
Daniel saw flashes.
A white room.
A piano.
Children seated in rows.
Arthur watching from behind glass.
The old man asking the same question over and over:
Who owns the music?
Daniel heard his younger voice answer:
The person who controls the silence.
He staggered backward.
Lydia caught him.
“What did you see?”
Daniel looked at the upright piano.
“I know the sequence that calls the elevator.”
Twelve shook her head.
“Don’t play it.”
“We need to reach the lower levels.”
“The sequence does not call the elevator,” she said. “It calls the children.”
Julian looked at the map.
The red markers had stopped inside the Conductor chamber.
Clara’s voice came through the monitor.
“Someone entered the ballroom.”
A tall elderly man walked slowly across the stage.
The guests moved aside without being told.
He wore a black suit and carried a silver metronome.
Arthur struggled to stand.
“Father.”
The old man looked directly into the camera.
“Bring Daniel to me.”
Clara aimed the gun at him.
“Stay away from the piano.”
He ignored her.
When he reached the grand instrument, he placed the metronome on top and set it ticking.
Daniel’s buried memories returned in a violent wave.
He saw Clara as a child in the next room.
Julian behind a locked glass wall.
Twelve standing among other numbered children.
And himself sitting at the center.
Not as a student.
As the one conducting them.
Daniel whispered, “I trained them.”
Twelve looked at him with fear.
“You were the First Conductor.”
May you like
The elderly man smiled from the ballroom screen.
“At last, you remember.”
