47. Hannah
Hannah
The woman smiles at me like we’re old friends.
Like she didn’t spend years helping monsters destroy children underground.
My entire body goes cold.
Because I know her.
Not her name.
Not fully.
But enough.
White gloves.
Lavender perfume.
Soft voice during injections.
The woman who told us pain meant the treatment was working.
Memory slams into me so hard my knees nearly buckle.
“The doctor…”
Her smile widens slightly.
“Well,” she says gently, “that’s disappointing.”
Clay moves instantly in front of me.
Protective.
Lethal.
His rifle centers directly on her chest.
“Step away from the children.”
The doctor barely glances at him.
Still watching me.
“You weren’t supposed to remember this much.”
Fear crawls slowly down my spine.
Not because of the gun.
Not because of Sentinel.
Because she sounds genuinely confused.
Like I broke something important.
Russ spreads left through the underground nursery while Lucas and Mason secure the exits.
The children stare at us from tiny beds with hollow eyes.
Some look drugged.
Others terrified.
One little girl clutches a stuffed rabbit so tightly her hands shake.
Jesus Christ.
Gabriel’s face turns murderous beside me.
“How many children are here?”
The doctor gives a small shrug.
“Temporary holding rotates constantly.”
Holding.
Not children.
Not lives.
Inventory.
Clay’s entire body goes rigid.
“Last warning.”
Still calm, the woman slowly sets the syringe onto the cart.
“You think killing me changes anything?”
Honestly?
Yeah.
Little bit.
But Gabriel beats everyone to the answer.
“Yes.”
His voice is ice.
Pure ice.
The doctor finally recognizes him fully.
And for the first time—
her composure cracks slightly.
“Well,” she murmurs.
“That explains the breach.”
Gabriel steps closer.
I’ve never seen someone look more dangerous in my life.
Not yelling.
Not emotional.
Just done.
“You remember me?”
The doctor studies him carefully.
“Gabriel Petrescu.”
A tiny smile touches her mouth.
“You were difficult to condition.”
Hannah.
Petrescu.
Romanian.
The realization probably clicks for everyone else right then too.
Gabriel was never imported into Sentinel.
He was born inside its reach.
His jaw tightens hard enough I hear his teeth grind.
“You experimented on children.”
The woman tilts her head slightly.
“We improved survivability.”
Mason mutters,
“Oh, I’m gonna kill this bitch.”
Valid response.
Very valid.
The doctor finally looks back toward me.
“And Subject Thirteen…”
Her smile softens strangely.
“You were our greatest success.”
Every instinct in my body recoils.
“No.”
“Oh yes.”
She folds her hands calmly.
“Your memory retention, emotional resilience, neurological adaptation—”
“STOP TALKING.”
My voice cracks through the room so violently even I barely recognize it.
The children flinch instantly.
Silence crashes down.
Tears burn behind my eyes.
Not weakness.
Rage.
“You let children die.”
The doctor’s expression doesn’t change.
“Some of the children failed stabilization.”
Failed stabilization.
Like she was defective equipment.
Something inside me finally snaps.
I move before anybody can stop me.
Clay catches my wrist instantly—
but not hard enough to hurt.
Just enough to pause me.
“Hannah.”
I’m shaking violently now.
“She killed them.”
“I know.”
“No—you don’t understand—”
“I know.”
His voice drops lower.
Softer.
But somehow more dangerous.
“I know exactly what she is.”
The doctor watches us carefully.
Analyzing.
Always analyzing.
Then her eyes drift slowly across the room toward the children.
And suddenly—
my stomach drops.
Because one little boy near the far wall looks familiar.
Dark curls.
Bruise beneath one eye.
Tiny scar near his chin.
No.
No no no.
Memory detonates instantly.
The train station.
Three nights ago.
The boy Wu’s operatives dragged away while people screamed outside the port district.
Oh God.
“They’re still taking children from the streets…”
Russ hears it immediately.
His expression darkens.
“Human acquisition teams.”
The doctor sighs softly like we’re exhausting her.
“The program requires continuity.”
Lucas looks physically sick now.
“How many facilities?”
The woman smiles faintly.
“You think this is the only one?”
No.
Please no.
But deep down…we already know.
This entire tunnel system probably connects beneath half the city.
The little girl clutching the stuffed rabbit suddenly whispers:
“Please don’t leave us here.”
That destroys whatever control remains in the room.
Gabriel turns instantly toward Russ.
“We extract every child.”
Russ nods once.
“Already happening.”
Gabriel’s team moves immediately, carefully lifting frightened children from beds while Lucas starts disconnecting IV lines.
Some of the children recoil violently from touch.
Conditioned.
Drugged.
Terrified.
Clay slowly releases my wrist but keeps himself directly beside me.
Always close enough to catch me now.
Like he knows I’m one memory away from falling apart.
The doctor watches the rescue calmly.
Too calmly.
And suddenly—
I realize something horrifying.
She isn’t afraid.
Not even a little.
My pulse spikes.
“Clay…”
He hears it instantly.
“What?”
“She’s waiting.”
The doctor’s smile widens slightly.
“Oh,” she says softly.
“There it is.”
My blood turns to ice.
Because suddenly I remember another phrase.
Another room.
Another lesson.
Recovery teams always arrive after exposure.
Oh God.
OH GOD.
I spin toward Russ violently.
“It’s a trap!”
The lights immediately die.
Darkness swallows the nursery whole.
And somewhere deep in the tunnels—sirens begin screaming.