The message burned in Nathan’s mind long after the screen went dark:

You took her from us. She’s not who you think she is.

For days, he tried to ignore it. He told himself it was a hoax — some bitter associate trying to shake him. But deep down, the doubt began to fester like a splinter under his skin.

Lily was different now — brighter, happier — yet at times, he caught her staring out the window with that same haunted look she had the night she appeared in his car. Once, he found her drawing in the study. On the paper, she had sketched three faceless men in suits… and behind them, a tall woman with a red scarf. The detail was chilling.

When he asked who they were, Lily looked up innocently and said, “Just bad dreams.”
But Nathan wasn’t sure he believed her.

One rainy evening, after putting Lily to bed, Nathan poured himself a glass of scotch and opened his laptop. He typed a single name into the encrypted search system his company used for private investigations: Lily Grace — no last name, age approximately six.

The results were unsettling. No records. No school enrollment. No birth certificate. No trace of a mother or father anywhere in Oregon. It was as if she had appeared out of thin air.

Then, just as he was about to close the search, a red flag appeared — an archived case file from three years ago, labeled “Project Halo.” The name was attached to a classified private research firm, Helios Biotech, a company Nathan had unknowingly invested in years earlier. The file was locked, but one line was visible in the metadata:

“Subject L-07 – transferred for observation after exposure to compound HX-9.”

Nathan’s stomach tightened. “L-07.” Lily.

The next morning, he drove Lily to school — or at least pretended to. Instead of heading to the usual route, he turned downtown toward the industrial district. Lily hummed softly beside him, tracing shapes on the fogged window.

“You okay, Daddy Nathan?” she asked.

He forced a smile. “Just thinking about work, sweetheart.”

When she hopped out at the school gate, he waited until she disappeared inside, then pulled away and headed straight for the Helios Biotech building — a sleek, mirrored tower that looked too clean for the secrets it might hide.

Inside, the receptionist froze when she saw his ID. “Mr. Carter? I thought the Helios division was dissolved after your acquisition—”

“Yes,” Nathan said coldly. “And now I want to know why one of their subjects ended up in my car.”

The woman hesitated, then lowered her voice. “Sir… you shouldn’t ask about that. People disappeared for less.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. “Then maybe it’s time someone didn’t.”

He forced his way into the restricted archives. Dust, silence, the faint hum of old servers. After twenty minutes of searching, he found it: a folder marked L-07: Field Study – Child Prototype.

Inside were photographs — a small girl in a hospital gown, electrodes taped to her temples. Notes in cold, clinical language:

Age 3 – demonstrates heightened memory retention and sensory intuition beyond control group.
Age 5 – escaped containment after facility breach. Presumed lost.

Nathan stared at the picture. It was Lily.

He dropped the file, chest tightening. What had they done to her?

Then he noticed something else — a document at the bottom labeled “Ownership Transfer Agreement – Signed by David Bennett.”

David. His betrayer. The man who had nearly destroyed him… and apparently, the man connected to Lily long before she ever entered his life.

By the time Nathan reached the car, his hands were shaking. He dialed Detective Mills, one of the few officers who had helped him during the conspiracy case.

“Tom, it’s Carter. I need you to pull everything on Helios Biotech and Project Halo. Quietly.”

“Carter,” Mills said, his tone tense, “whatever you’re digging into, stop. Helios was government-funded. You don’t want to cross that line.”

Nathan’s voice hardened. “That line crossed me the moment they used a child.”

He hung up.

That night, when he got home, Lily was waiting at the top of the stairs, clutching her stuffed rabbit. “You were gone a long time,” she said softly.

“I had to work,” Nathan replied.

But Lily’s gaze was piercing. “You went to that building.”

He froze. “How do you—?”

“I remember it,” she whispered. “The lights. The people in white coats. They made me sleep. They said I wasn’t supposed to wake up.”

Her small hands trembled. Nathan knelt and wrapped her in his arms, feeling her heartbeat thud against his chest.

“It’s over now,” he said, though he didn’t believe it.

Because outside, in the dark beyond the garden, two black cars were parked again.

Days passed. The tension grew heavier. Nathan noticed the same sedan tailing him on his commute. Anonymous emails appeared in his inbox: “Return what doesn’t belong to you.”

Then one night, Lily woke screaming. She pointed to the window. “The red scarf lady! She’s here!”

Nathan ran outside, but the street was empty except for a faint rustle — a scrap of crimson fabric caught on the fence.

That was when he realized: whoever wanted Lily back wasn’t done.

By morning, he made a decision. He packed a small bag for Lily and took her north along the coast, where the cliffs met the ocean. They stopped at a safe cabin he once used during negotiations — off-grid, untraceable.

As they sat by the fire, Lily asked, “Why are we running?”

“Because some people don’t understand what family means,” Nathan said.

Lily’s eyes shimmered in the firelight. “You think I’m different.”

Nathan shook his head. “I think you’re extraordinary.”

“But what if I hurt you someday?” she asked quietly.

He reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. “Then I’ll remind you who you are — not what they made you.”

For the first time, she smiled. But behind her soft expression, Nathan saw the flicker of something else — fear. Or maybe memory.

At dawn, Nathan stepped outside for air. The sea stretched endlessly, gray and cold. His phone buzzed. Another message.

You can’t hide her forever. She wasn’t the first — and she won’t be the last.

Then an attachment: a photograph taken through the cabin window.
Of him.
And Lily.
Sleeping.

His breath caught in his throat. He turned toward the trees — and swore he saw a figure watching from the mist.

He rushed back inside. Lily was gone.

Outside, small footprints led toward the forest. And beside them… another set. Larger.

Nathan’s heart pounded as he called her name into the fog. “LILY!”

Only silence answered.

And then, faintly, her voice — distant, trembling, echoing from the trees:
“Daddy Nathan… they found us.”

The sound was swallowed by the wind.

Nathan took off running, every step fueled by desperation, fear, and the terrifying question that now consumed him—