Luke and I exchanged a look of sheer terror. Someone—or something—was watching us.
The Next Morning
The next morning, I found Luke sitting at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot and distant. The faint scar on his wrist was more visible in the morning light.
"Luke, we need to talk," I said, my voice steady but trembling inside.
He nodded, his knuckles tapping nervously on the table.
"About what happened last night," I continued. "The journal."
Luke sighed, looking down at his hands. "I know. I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve told you sooner."
I sat across from him, the air thick with unspoken words. "Where did you find it?"
"In the foster home's basement," he whispered. "I was hiding there one day, and I stumbled upon it. There were a lot of old things, but the journal caught my eye."
"Your mother was a lab assistant on the project," I said, my mind racing. "What project?"
"The one that created me," Luke replied, his voice barely audible. "I think I’m a clone."
My heart skipped a beat. "A clone? Of what?"
"Of your son, Elliot," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "They were trying to give grieving parents a piece of their lost children back."
The room spun. "But how? Why?"
"I don’t know all the details. But my memories... they might not be real. They could be implanted."
I reached out and took his hand, feeling the coldness of his skin. "We’ll figure this out, Luke. I promise."
Digging Deeper
As we delved deeper into the journal, the phone rang. It was the caseworker, her voice urgent and demanding.
"We need Luke back at the agency immediately," she said. "His DNA matches the deceased children. It’s a violation of protocol, and we need to rectify it."
I hung up, my hands shaking. "They want you back," I told Luke. "They say your DNA matches our children."
His eyes widened. "What do we do?"
Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door. I hesitated, a police subpoena sliding under the door. It demanded the immediate surrender of Luke’s medical records.
"Mom, what’s happening?" Luke asked, his voice cracking.
I picked up the subpoena, my mind racing. "They’re coming for you."
Then, my sister's frantic voice echoed through the phone. "Listen to me, they’re trying to erase all evidence. They want to make it like Luke never existed."
I hung up, my heart pounding. "We can’t let them do this, Luke. We have to protect you."
Just as I made up my mind, I heard the front door slam. A shadowy figure appeared, holding a syringe, poised to inject something into Luke.
The Decision
I sat on the edge of my bed, the weight of the night's events pressing down on me. The attic window had shattered, and the journal pages were scattered like secrets in the wind. What was I supposed to do now?
Luke's words echoed in my mind. He was a product of a secret experiment. He was a clone of my lost son, Elliot.
