Chapter 43: The Tower of Whispers
Chapter 43: The Tower of Whispers
The interior of the old refinery had been hollowed out, replaced by a sleek, glass-walled data center that looked like a mirror image of the Vance Tower core.
Standing in the center of the room, flanked by two men in impeccable British military uniforms, was Eleanor Vance. Her prison jumpsuit was gone, replaced by a bespoke charcoal suit. Her silver hair was perfect.
"You always were an impatient girl, Sarah," Eleanor said, her voice echoing off the glass.
"Where is she?" Sarah demanded, her boots clicking against the steel grate floor.
Eleanor sighed, pouring herself a cup of tea from a silver pot on the table. "Hope is sleeping. She’s in the nursery upstairs, under the care of a top-tier neonatologist. Unlike you, The Consortium protects its investments."
One of the men in uniform stepped forward, holding a tablet. "Mrs. Sterling. Place your right hand on the reader. Once the validation is complete, the child will be returned to your custody. You will receive a stipend of ten million pounds annually to live anywhere in the world, provided you never return to North America."
Sarah looked at the reader. Then she looked past Eleanor, toward the glass staircase leading to the upper deck.
May you like
"And if I refuse?" Sarah asked.
Eleanor smiled—a viper's smile. "Then we don't use your thumb, Sarah. We use your daughter's. The genetic sequence is identical enough to bypass the primary relay if we harvest the tissue from her heel mark. It’s a bit... messy, but effective."
