PART 4 — THE MAN BEHIND ALL THREE FAMILIES
Joon stared at his father as if he no longer recognized him.
“My grandfather is alive?”
Young-ho said nothing for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
Joon laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“You told me he died before I was born.”
“I had to.”
“No. You chose to.”
Young-ho flinched.
Joon pointed toward the photograph.
“And my mother?”
Young-ho looked down.
“She found out what he had done.”
“What had he done?”
Nobody answered.
Joon stepped forward.
“What had he done?”
My father spoke quietly.
“He financed the research.”
Joon turned toward him.
“What research?”
“Project Mirror.”
I felt my stomach tighten again.
Every answer seemed to open another door.
My father continued.
“Your maternal grandfather was one of the earliest investors.”
“Why would he care about biometric identity?”
“Because he understood what identity could be worth.”
Joon frowned.
“What does that even mean?”
My father looked at all of us.
“In the beginning, Project Mirror was supposed to solve inheritance disputes, missing-person cases, family fraud, stolen identity.”
“And then?”
“And then your grandfather realized it could be used to hide ownership instead of prove it.”
Young-ho whispered:
“Shell companies.”
My father nodded.
“Accounts. Property. Patents. Offshore holdings. Assets could be distributed under fake identities, then reclaimed later through verified bloodline access.”
I stared at him.
“So Project Mirror could prove who secretly owned what.”
“Yes.”
“How much money was hidden?”
My father looked toward the floor.
“Hundreds of millions at first.”
“At first?”
He met my eyes.
“Over decades, possibly billions.”
Joon went still.
His face changed.
“The account Emily found.”
“One branch.”
“The trust?”
“One branch.”
“The licensing money?”
“One branch.”
My hands went cold.
“So someone built an entire financial empire using this system.”
My father nodded.
“And now they need Emily and me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother changed the security design before the fire.”
My chest tightened.
“What did she change?”
“She split final access between two generations.”
I shook my head.
“Explain.”
“Your blood activates the root authorization.”
“And Emily?”
“She confirms continuation.”
I almost laughed.
“So my mother built a system requiring me and my daughter?”
“No.”
He hesitated.
“She built it around herself and you.”
I stared at him.
“Me?”
“You were fifteen.”
I remembered almost nothing unusual from that year.
School.
Friends.
My first job.
My mother constantly worried about money.
Nothing that suggested she was designing something worth billions.
“She used my DNA without telling me?”
“Yes.”
Anger flashed through me.
“Everyone in this family seems very comfortable making decisions with other people’s lives.”
My father lowered his head.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Joon suddenly picked up his coat.
“We’re wasting time.”
He looked at the address on my phone.
“Emily has less than an hour.”
Young-ho moved toward him.
“Joon—”
“Don’t.”
Young-ho stopped.
“I don’t want another lie from you.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You protected me so well that I married a woman under false pretenses and dragged her into the same nightmare.”
Joon’s voice broke.
Then he looked at me.
“I’m going.”
I nodded.
“So am I.”
My father stood.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“The message said come alone.”
“It also said bring Joon.”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s what we’re doing.”
My father shook his head.
“You don’t understand who these men are.”
“Apparently I don’t understand anyone.”
Young-ho reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a small black object.
Joon frowned.
“What is that?”
“A recorder.”
My father stared at him.
“You’ve been recording us?”
Young-ho looked at Joon.
“For twenty-two years.”
Silence.
Joon’s face went blank.
“What?”
“Not us.”
Young-ho swallowed.
“Your grandfather.”
He placed the device on the table.
“I have recordings. Phone calls. Meetings. Threats.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Because every time I got close, someone disappeared.”
Joon stared at him.
Young-ho continued.
“Your mother tried.”
The room went silent.
“She found evidence that her father had ordered the death of my sister.”
Joon looked sick.
“My aunt.”
“Yes.”
“And Mom?”
“She confronted him.”
Young-ho’s voice cracked.
“He told her to forget everything.”
“She refused.”
Joon whispered:
“Then the car accident.”
Young-ho nodded.
“No.”
Joon backed away.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You let me believe she died because someone ran a red light.”
“I was trying to keep you from becoming his next target.”
Joon grabbed the table.
His knuckles went white.
“What’s his name?”
Young-ho didn’t answer.
“Tell me his name.”
My father spoke instead.
“Park Min-jae.”
Joon slowly turned.
His face emptied of color.
“That name.”
Young-ho looked at him.
“What?”
“I’ve seen it.”
“Where?”
Joon stared toward the Project Mirror files.
“In Emily’s account records.”
My heart lurched.
“What did it say?”
“Beneficiary override.”
My father whispered:
“Oh no.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“If Min-jae is listed as override beneficiary, then he never lost control.”
Joon’s eyes widened.
“Meaning?”
“He doesn’t need Emily to steal the money.”
“Then why does he need her?”
Nobody answered.
That scared me more.
We left ten minutes later.
My father insisted on coming.
So did Young-ho.
I hated the idea.
But I hated the idea of walking into another trap blind even more.
We drove toward the address in silence.
It was outside Seoul, farther than I expected.
The city thinned into industrial roads and old warehouse districts.
Rain began tapping against the windshield.
Joon sat beside me in the back seat.
He hadn’t spoken since learning the truth about his mother.
Then he whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
I kept looking out the window.
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
I turned toward him.
“Did you love her when you proposed?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“Yes.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He closed his eyes.
“When I met her, no.”
My chest hurt.
“When I proposed?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
That answer surprised me.
He continued.
“But I did.”
I stared at him.
He looked broken.
“I was supposed to get close to Emily, learn what she knew, find out whether your father had left her documents.”
“So you dated her.”
“Yes.”
“How long before it became real?”
“Four months.”
“And you still didn’t tell her.”
“I was afraid she’d leave.”
“She should have had the choice.”
“I know.”
I looked away.
“No matter what happens tonight, you tell her everything.”
“I will.”
“Even if she leaves you.”
His voice was barely audible.
“Yes.”
The address led to an abandoned research facility surrounded by trees and rusted fencing.
One security light glowed above the entrance.
No cars.
No guards.
Nothing.
Too quiet.
Young-ho looked around.
“This used to belong to Min-jae.”
Joon stared at him.
“You knew?”
“I came here once.”
“When?”
“After your mother died.”
Joon looked away.
My father stepped toward the entrance.
“Stay close.”
I almost snapped at him again.
Then the front door opened by itself.
A speaker crackled overhead.
“Anne.”
The voice was calm.
Older.
“Come inside.”
I looked at Joon.
He nodded.
We entered.
The lobby was dark except for emergency lighting.
A red arrow had been painted onto the floor.
It pointed toward a corridor.
Young-ho whispered:
“He’s leading us.”
My father said:
“Of course he is.”
We followed.
At the end of the corridor stood an elevator.
The doors were open.
Inside was a single button.
B2.
Joon looked at me.
“Basement.”
We stepped inside.
The doors closed.
As we descended, my father spoke.
“No matter what he says, do not give him your hand.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Project Mirror’s root authorization uses vascular mapping.”
“Blood vessels?”
“Yes.”
“Then why DNA?”
“DNA confirms lineage. Palm-vein structure confirms the living user.”
My skin crawled.
“So he needs my hand.”
“Yes.”
Joon looked at Emily’s last message.
“And Emily’s?”
“Secondary confirmation.”
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
A huge underground room stretched before us.
Computer racks.
Old filing cabinets.
Steel doors.
And in the center of the room sat Emily.
My heart nearly stopped.
“Emily!”
She stood.
“Mom!”
I ran toward her.
A man stepped out from the darkness.
Older.
Tall.
Immaculately dressed.
He had silver hair and a calm expression.
Joon froze.
Young-ho whispered:
“Min-jae.”
The man smiled.
“It’s been a long time.”
Joon stared.
“You’re my grandfather.”
Min-jae’s smile widened slightly.
“Yes.”
Joon’s jaw clenched.
“You killed my mother.”
Min-jae didn’t blink.
“No.”
Young-ho stepped forward.
“You ordered it.”
“No.”
“You threatened her.”
“Yes.”
Joon lunged.
I caught his arm.
“Don’t.”
Min-jae watched us almost with amusement.
“Young people always want one villain.”
Joon shouted:
“Did you kill her?”
Min-jae’s expression hardened.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Min-jae looked at my father.
“He did.”
Everyone went still.
My father stared at him.
“You’re lying.”
Min-jae smiled.
“Am I?”
Joon looked at my father.
My father shook his head.
“Don’t listen to him.”
Min-jae walked to a monitor.
He pressed a button.
Security footage appeared.
Grainy.
Old.
A parking garage.
A woman entered the frame.
Joon whispered:
“Mom.”
She looked younger than I expected.
She was arguing with someone off camera.
Then a man stepped into view.
My father.
Joon turned.
“You were there?”
My father said nothing.
The footage continued.
My father grabbed her arm.
She pulled away.
They argued.
No audio.
Then the video cut.
Joon stared at him.
“What happened after that?”
My father swallowed.
“She came to me for help.”
Min-jae laughed.
“Help?”
“She had evidence against you.”
“Then why was she dead two hours later?”
My father looked at Joon.
“I don’t know.”
Min-jae pressed another button.
A second recording began.
Audio only.
My father’s voice.
“I can’t let her talk.”
Joon went white.
My father shouted:
“That is edited!”
Min-jae smiled.
“Everything is edited when truth becomes inconvenient.”
Emily ran to me.
I held her.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
She looked toward the steel chamber behind Min-jae.
“Because he showed me something.”
“What?”
She handed me a tablet.
On the screen was a list of names.
Thousands.
Companies.
Banks.
Trusts.
Foundations.
Property holdings.
I scrolled.
My breathing slowed.
“This is Project Mirror?”
Emily nodded.
Min-jae spoke from across the room.
“Project Mirror isn’t a single account.”
I looked at him.
“It’s a registry.”
“Of what?”
“True ownership.”
My father said:
“Don’t listen.”
Min-jae continued.
“Politicians. Industrialists. Families. Corporations. People who hid money for decades.”
I felt cold.
“Why show Emily?”
“Because the registry is about to unlock.”
Joon stared.
“Why now?”
Min-jae looked toward me.
“Because Anne came to Korea.”
I froze.
“You knew I was coming?”
“I arranged it.”
My heart sank.
“What?”
Emily stared at me.
“Mom?”
Min-jae smiled.
“Your flight upgrade. The hotel cancellation that pushed you to stay with Emily. Joon’s father’s invitation to dinner.”
Young-ho looked horrified.
“You arranged that?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You wanted me to overhear them.”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“You knew I understood Korean.”
“Of course.”
“How?”
“Your language app data isn’t private.”
I felt violated in a way I couldn’t describe.
“All of this was planned.”
Min-jae nodded.
“Most of it.”
Joon looked at him.
“Why?”
“To bring the required people together.”
My father stepped forward.
“For activation.”
“Yes.”
Young-ho whispered:
“You’ve been waiting decades.”
Min-jae looked toward the chamber.
“For Anne.”
I tightened my arm around Emily.
“I’m not opening anything.”
Min-jae’s smile disappeared.
“You will.”
“No.”
He pressed another button.
A screen lit up.
My mother appeared.
Not a photograph.
Video.
Older than the factory footage.
She was sitting at a desk.
My knees weakened.
Her voice filled the room.
“If you’re watching this, then something went wrong.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Mom.”
My mother continued.
“Anne, I am sorry.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“I never wanted you involved.”
I stepped closer.
The recording continued.
“Project Mirror was never created to hide money.”
My father looked away.
“It was created to expose it.”
I stared at him.
My mother said:
“Your father wanted to shut it down.”
My chest tightened.
Min-jae’s expression hardened.
“But others wanted to control it.”
The video flickered.
Then my mother said:
“If Min-jae is still alive, do not trust him.”
Everyone turned toward him.
He didn’t move.
Emily gripped my hand.
My mother continued:
“And if your father is alive, do not trust him either.”
I looked at my father.
His face collapsed.
“Because both men lied about the fire.”
Silence.
My mother took a breath.
“The fire was not an accident.”
My father whispered:
“Stop the video.”
Min-jae smiled.
“No.”
My mother continued.
“It was planned.”
Young-ho stared at my father.
“By whom?”
As if answering him, my mother said:
“By me.”
I felt the world tilt.
Emily whispered:
“Grandma started it?”
My mother continued.
“I ordered the evacuation.”
My father closed his eyes.
“I intended to destroy Project Mirror before anyone could abuse it.”
“Three people died,” Young-ho whispered.
The video continued.
“But someone locked the east exit.”
Min-jae’s face changed.
My mother said:
“That person was not my husband.”
My father looked up.
“It was not Min-jae.”
Min-jae’s smile vanished.
My mother took a long breath.
“It was someone inside my own family.”
My skin turned cold.
My mother looked directly into the camera.
“Anne, the person who trapped those workers was your uncle.”
My father stared at the screen.
His twin.
I felt sick.
Then my mother said:
“But he wasn’t working alone.”
Min-jae stepped toward the controls.
My father blocked him.
“Let it play.”
Min-jae’s face darkened.
My mother continued.
“The second person was Park Min-jae’s daughter.”
Joon stopped breathing.
Young-ho’s face drained.
“His daughter?”
Joon whispered:
“My mother?”
“No,” Min-jae snapped.
For the first time, he lost control.
The video continued.
“Not Joon’s mother.”
Joon stared.
Min-jae went still.
My mother said:
“His older daughter.”
Young-ho whispered:
“He had another daughter?”
Min-jae said nothing.
My mother continued.
“She disappeared after the fire.”
My father looked at Min-jae.
“You told me she died.”
Min-jae stared at the screen.
My mother spoke:
“She didn’t die.”
Then the video stopped.
The screen went black.
“What happened?” I shouted.
Min-jae looked toward the system.
“Corrupt file.”
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
She grabbed the tablet.
“There’s another segment.”
She opened it.
My mother’s face returned.
This time, she looked frightened.
“If you’re seeing this part, then the system has identified the correct bloodline.”
I looked at Emily.
“What does that mean?”
My mother continued.
“The woman who helped lock the east exit had a child.”
Min-jae turned pale.
My father stared at him.
My mother said:
“That child’s identity was hidden.”
Joon stepped toward the screen.
“Who?”
The recording flickered.
Then my mother spoke four words that changed everything.
“The child was Joon.”
Nobody moved.
Joon looked at Young-ho.
Young-ho looked as though he’d been struck.
“No.”
Joon backed away.
“What does she mean?”
Min-jae said:
“Turn it off.”
Emily shouted:
“No!”
The video continued.
“Joon is not Young-ho’s biological son.”
Joon’s face emptied.
Young-ho whispered:
“I raised you.”
Joon stared at him.
“You knew?”
“No.”
Min-jae moved toward the control panel.
My father grabbed him.
“Let it finish.”
My mother continued.
“Joon’s biological mother was Min-jae’s older daughter.”
Joon looked at Min-jae.
“You’re my grandfather.”
Min-jae said nothing.
My mother said:
“And his biological father was—”
The video froze.
Joon shouted:
“WHO?”
Emily hit the screen.
Nothing.
Then a system message appeared.
SECONDARY AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.
Emily looked at me.
“It wants you.”
My father grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t.”
Min-jae shouted:
“Do it.”
I pulled away from both men.
“I’m done being ordered around.”
Emily looked at me.
“Mom, if we don’t unlock it, we’ll never know.”
I stared at my daughter.
Then at Joon.
A man who had lied to her.
A man who might not even know who he was.
I placed my palm on the scanner.
Light passed beneath my skin.
A soft tone sounded.
AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED.
The video resumed.
My mother looked into the camera.
“Joon’s biological father was your father’s twin brother.”
My heart stopped.
Joon stared at my father.
Then at me.
No one spoke.
The family tree rearranged itself in my mind.
My father’s twin.
Min-jae’s daughter.
Their child.
Joon.
Emily.
I whispered:
“Oh God.”
Joon looked at Emily.
“What does that make us?”
My father answered slowly.
“Not siblings.”
“But?”
He swallowed.
“Related.”
Emily went pale.
“How related?”
My father closed his eyes.
“Joon’s father was my identical twin.”
I felt sick.
Genetically, identical twins share almost the same DNA.
Which meant Joon’s biological father was genetically almost the same as my father.
Which meant Joon was genetically close to being my father’s son.
Emily whispered:
“So Joon is…”
My father couldn’t say it.
I did.
“Genetically, close to my half-brother.”
Emily backed away from Joon.
He looked shattered.
“No.”
Min-jae suddenly laughed.
We all turned.
It was soft at first.
Then louder.
My father stared at him.
“What is funny?”
Min-jae shook his head.
“You still believe Project Mirror tells the truth.”
My skin prickled.
“What?”
He walked toward the central computer.
“DNA can identify relationships.”
He smiled.
“But data can be changed.”
Joon stared at him.
“You altered it.”
Min-jae pressed a key.
The family tree vanished.
A second tree appeared.
Different.
My father whispered:
“No.”
Min-jae looked at Joon.
“Your mother was my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“But your father was not his twin.”
Joon’s breathing stopped.
“Then who?”
Min-jae looked directly at Young-ho.
“Young-ho.”
Joon stared.
Young-ho’s knees nearly gave out.
“What?”
Min-jae smiled.
“You were his biological father all along.”
Young-ho looked confused.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if you remember Jeju.”
Young-ho froze.
Joon looked between them.
“What happened in Jeju?”
Young-ho whispered:
“No.”
Min-jae nodded.
“You were twenty-two.”
Young-ho covered his face.
Joon stared.
“You knew my mother before Dad?”
Young-ho looked at him.
“I didn’t know who she was.”
Min-jae continued.
“You spent one night together.”
Young-ho whispered:
“She disappeared.”
“Yes.”
Joon stared at his father.
“You’re really my father.”
Young-ho began crying.
“I think so.”
Min-jae smiled.
“Think?”
Then he pressed another button.
A DNA verification appeared.
PARENT-CHILD MATCH: 99.998%.
Joon stared at the screen.
Young-ho reached toward him.
Joon backed away.
“Don’t.”
Young-ho stopped.
Emily whispered:
“Then Joon and I aren’t related.”
“No,” my father said.
I exhaled for what felt like the first time in minutes.
Then Min-jae said:
“That was never the dangerous secret.”
I looked at him.
“What is?”
He pointed toward the final locked file.
“Who killed the three workers.”
Young-ho stared.
“We already know the exit was locked.”
“Yes.”
“By your daughter and the twin.”
“No.”
My father looked at him.
“You just contradicted the recording.”
Min-jae smiled.
“The recording only says they helped.”
My skin crawled.
“Who ordered it?”
Min-jae looked at Emily.
Then at me.
Then at my father.
“The person who benefited most.”
My father whispered:
“Who?”
Min-jae touched the screen.
The final file opened.
An old ledger appeared.
Insurance payments.
Patent transfers.
Trust creation dates.
And one signature.
Young-ho leaned closer.
Joon did too.
Emily covered her mouth.
I recognized the signature immediately.
My mother’s.
“No.”
My father whispered:
“That proves nothing.”
Min-jae opened another document.
A payment authorization.
My mother’s signature again.
Then another.
And another.
All dated after the fire.
I stared at the screen.
“She was moving the assets.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Min-jae looked at me.
“To you.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“The hidden ownership didn’t belong to your father.”
I stared at him.
“It belonged to your mother.”
Emily whispered:
“Grandma owned Project Mirror?”
“Not merely Project Mirror.”
Min-jae smiled.
“She owned the company.”
My father looked devastated.
I turned toward him.
“Did you know?”
He said nothing.
“DID YOU KNOW?”
“Yes.”
My world cracked open again.
“You let everyone believe it was yours.”
“She asked me to.”
“Why?”
“Because nobody would suspect a housewife in America.”
I thought of my mother.
Grocery lists.
Church bake sales.
Coupons.
Her old cardigan.
A woman who spent ten minutes deciding whether canned tomatoes were too expensive.
And now I was being told she had controlled a fortune.
“Why did she live like that?”
My father whispered:
“Guilt.”
“For the fire?”
“Yes.”
Min-jae interrupted.
“No.”
My father looked at him.
Min-jae’s smile disappeared.
“She wasn’t guilty because people died.”
My stomach turned.
“She was guilty because one survived.”
Nobody spoke.
“Who?”
Min-jae pointed toward a door at the far end of the room.
A lock clicked.
The door opened.
An elderly woman stepped out.
She walked slowly.
Silver hair.
Thin frame.
But when Young-ho saw her, he made a sound like his heart had stopped.
“No.”
Joon looked at him.
“Who is she?”
Young-ho could barely speak.
“My sister.”
My father’s Korean daughter.
The woman everyone said had been murdered twenty-two years ago.
She looked directly at my father.
“You always were terrible at funerals.”
My father staggered backward.
“You’re alive.”
She smiled bitterly.
“Yes.”
Then she turned toward Emily.
Joon.
Young-ho.
And finally me.
“I think all of you deserve the truth.”
Min-jae stepped aside.
She walked to the center of the room.
“My death was staged.”
Young-ho whispered:
“Why?”
“To hide me from Anne’s mother.”
I stared at her.
“My mother?”
She nodded.
“Your mother tried to kill me.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
“She believed I had taken everything from her.”
“My father?”
“Him.”
She looked toward the system.
“The company.”
Then toward me.
“And you.”
I frowned.
“Me?”
Her eyes softened.
“Anne, your mother didn’t build Project Mirror for money.”
“What did she build it for?”
The woman took a slow breath.
“To find you.”
I stared at her.
“Find me?”
“You were missing for eleven months when you were a baby.”
My blood turned cold.
“No.”
My father closed his eyes.
I turned on him.
“What is she talking about?”
He couldn’t answer.
“Dad.”
The Korean woman whispered:
“You weren’t born to the woman you called Mom.”
The room vanished around me.
I stared at her.
“What?”
She stepped closer.
“Anne, the woman who raised you was not your biological mother.”
Emily grabbed my arm.
My knees weakened.
“No.”
The woman nodded.
“Project Mirror was created because she was trying to prove who you really belonged to.”
My mouth went dry.
“Who was my mother?”
She looked toward Min-jae.
Then toward Young-ho.
Finally she whispered:
“Mine.”
I felt the floor disappear.
“You?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You were taken from me when you were eleven months old.”
My father whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew?”
He couldn’t look at me.
“I found out later.”
I backed away.
Emily held me.
The woman continued.
“Your mother—the woman who raised you—was my older half-sister.”
I stared at her.
“She couldn’t have children.”
“So she took me?”
The woman nodded.
“With help.”
“From whom?”
Silence.
Then everyone slowly looked toward my father.
He began crying.
I couldn’t breathe.
“You helped her steal me.”
He whispered:
“Yes.”
Everything inside me went still.
Not anger.
Not grief.
Something colder.
I looked at the man I had mourned for eighteen years.
The man who had walked me to school.
The man who had called me Annie.
The man I had spent my entire life believing was my father.
“You kidnapped me.”
He shook his head.
“I thought we were saving you.”
“From my mother?”
He looked toward the Korean woman.
“From her family.”
Min-jae smiled without warmth.
“From me.”
I stared at him.
“You’re her father.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
Which meant if she was my biological mother—
I looked at Min-jae.
“You’re my grandfather.”
He nodded.
And then I looked at Young-ho.
He had gone completely pale.
Because if the woman was his sister—
Young-ho was my uncle.
And Joon was his son.
I looked at Emily.
Then Joon.
The room began spinning.
Emily whispered:
“Mom.”
Joon looked horrified.
“What does that make Emily and me?”
No one answered.
Then Project Mirror did.
A warning flashed across the main screen.
CONSANGUINITY DETECTED.
Emily covered her mouth.
Joon backed away.
“No.”
I stared at the screen as a relationship map appeared.
My biological mother.
Young-ho.
Joon.
Me.
Emily.
Then the final percentage calculation appeared.
Joon whispered:
“Oh God.”
Emily began crying.
Because the system had just confirmed that she and the man she had married were biologically related.
And before anyone could understand how closely, alarms suddenly began screaming throughout the underground facility.
Min-jae looked toward the control panel.
His face changed.
“What is that?”
My father stared at the screen.
“Someone initiated a purge.”
The Korean woman whispered:
“Who?”
A countdown appeared.
10:00.
09:59.
09:58.
Emily grabbed my hand.
“What happens when it reaches zero?”
My father looked at the steel doors.
Then at the servers.
Then at all of us.
“The entire archive destroys itself.”
Joon said:
“Then we leave.”
“No.”
My father stared at the countdown.
“The doors are already locked.”
Young-ho ran toward the elevator.
It wouldn’t open.
09:41.
09:40.
Min-jae suddenly looked toward a security feed.
A figure was walking through the upper corridor.
My father froze.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Who?”
He stepped closer to the monitor.
The figure moved into the light.
An elderly man.
Same face.
Same eyes.
My father’s twin.
Alive.
He looked directly into the camera.
Then smiled.
And over the speakers, his voice filled the room.
“You finally brought the whole family together.”
My father whispered:
“What are you doing?”
His twin laughed.
“Finishing what we started in 1989.”
Then the camera feed switched.
A second room appeared.
Inside it were dozens of fuel canisters.
Joon stared.
“He’s going to burn the facility.”
My father’s twin leaned toward the camera.
“No evidence.”
The countdown continued.
08:57.
08:56.
Then he said:
“No Project Mirror.”
08:54.
“No witnesses.”
Emily squeezed my hand.
And suddenly I understood.
The biggest secret wasn’t who had started the first fire.
It was who intended to survive the second.
TO BE CONTINUED…
