Chapter 20 Breaking Point #2
Leo hesitated, then pulled up a file marked with Amy’s name. “According to the leaked intake forms, she has markers associated with… hunter goddesses. Artemis lineage, specifically. High compatibility for what they’re calling ‘Phase II integration.’”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know exactly. But whatever Phase II is, it’s not approved by any medical board. It doesn’t exist in any official documentation; it’s completely off-book.” He clicked to another page. “And that brings me to the worst part.”
He opened a file containing a contract, mostly redacted with thick black lines obscuring names and details. At the top, in elaborate calligraphy:
By Decree of the Shepherd
And below, in smaller text, I had to squint to read:
Participant agrees to full metaphysical binding for the duration of the trial. Termination requires expressed written consent from the controlling entity. Life force, essence, and divine heritage are hereby claimed as collateral pending completion of the assigned protocol.
My stomach dropped. “They’re not just taking her health. They’re taking her soul.”
“And look at the signature line,” Leo said, pointing. “It doesn’t say ‘patient signature.’ It says ‘vessel acknowledgment.’”
Vessel, like Amy was just a container for something they wanted to extract.
“She didn’t know,” I breathed. “There’s no way she understood what this meant.”
“No one would,” Leo agreed. “Because it’s not written in legal language. It’s written in the language of binding oaths. The kind that can’t be broken by lawyers or courts.”
My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against the table. “Who’s the Shepherd?”
Leo pulled up another document. “This guy’s name keeps appearing across decades of records. Cyrus Vane. No birth records, no photos anywhere. He’s listed as founder, director, and benefactor. Sometimes he’s called ‘the Shepherd.’”
The name resonated in my bones, sending chills down my spine.
“What’s wrong?” Leo asked, noticing my reaction.
“That name,” I said. “Cyrus. I’ve heard it before, in my aunt’s journal. And the bookshop owner mentioned him.” The pieces were clicking together with sickening clarity. “He’s been around for decades, hasn’t he? These records go back to the sixties.”
“At least.” Leo pulled up an internal memo dated 1987. “‘The Shepherd has approved Phase III protocols. All flocks proceed to harvest.’ And here—” He clicked to another from 1999. “‘Cyrus requests increased yield from Berkeley cohort.’”
“That’s almost forty years between documents,” I said. “He’d have to be—”
“Either really old or not human,” Leo finished. “Which brings me back to the Ichor Group. I don’t think this guy is just some corporate psychopath. I think he’s something else.”
Footsteps caught our attention before we could continue. My heart dropped when the two approaching police officers appeared.
They stopped directly in front of us. Leo looked ready to bolt, and I probably didn’t look much better.
“Melanie Blumenthal?” one officer asked.
Cold dread settled in my stomach. “Yes?”
“Officer Ramirez. This is Officer Greene.” His voice was professionally neutral. “We need you to come to the station regarding your mother, Candace Blumenthal.”
The library disappeared, the world narrowing.
“What happened? Is she okay?” My voice cracked. “Was there an accident?”
“Her vehicle was found abandoned on Route 724 early this morning. No sign of struggle.” Officer Ramirez explained. “Reports state you two had an argument before she disappeared.”
My lungs forgot how to work. “We—yes, we argued, but—”
“You need to come with us for questioning.”
Panic surged through me. This was happening too fast. We’d fought—gods, we’d fought—and now she was gone. I suddenly felt nauseous.
“Am I under arrest?”
“Only if you refuse to comply, Ms. Blumenthal.” Annoyance bled into Ramirez’s tone.
“Okay.” The word came out barely audible.
Officer Ramirez clasped my arm tightly, while Greene flanked my other side. I could hear the murmurs around us. By tonight, everyone on campus would know.
Leo stood, following. “I’m coming with you.”
“Leo—”
“Don’t resist. Do what they say.” He stated. “I’ll meet you at the station. I’ll call my uncle, he’s a lawyer. We’ll figure this out.”
My thoughts spiraled. The fever made everything feel distant and too close at once, like I was watching this happen to someone else. They guided me into the back of the cruiser. They remained silent for the entire drive.
The police station was the kind of small one where nothing happens until it does. Inside, everything smelled like burnt coffee and old paperwork. Tires squealed outside as Leo’s truck skidded into the lot. I heard him shouting as Officer Ramirez led me toward an interrogation room.
“Wait! Hold up!” Leo was chasing after us. Officer Greene turned to intercept him. “She didn’t do anything!”
“She’s not being arrested. We’re questioning her.” Officer Greene said irritably.
“I have proof!” Leo pulled out his manila folder, shoving it toward the officer. “Documentation on Ekklesia Biotech. Melanie wouldn’t hurt her mom. It was them. Fraud, illegal medical trials, metaphysical contracts—”
Officer Greene’s expression shifted, suspicious. “Where exactly did you obtain this information?”
“Publicly adjacent data repositories.” Leo’s voice was smooth, but his shoulders tensed up.
Officer Greene waved over another officer. The officer met his eye, a quiet conversation between the two, and then the officer moved to stand next to Leo.
“Sir, we need you to come with me.” He said.
“What?” Leo’s confusion was genuine. “I’m cooperating. I brought you evidence—”
“Evidence obtained through potentially illegal means,” the officer finished. “You’re being detained for questioning regarding unauthorized access to protected systems.”
“Are you serious?” Leo looked between them and me. “People are dying—”
“Sir. Let’s go.” They were already moving toward him.
“Leo?!” I cried, anxiety rising.
“Mel—” Leo’s eyes locked on mine as they guided him toward the door. “Tell them everything. My uncle’s on his way. Don’t—”
The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the too-bright room with my fever and mounting panic and the crushing certainty that I was losing everyone.
I pressed my hands flat against the table, trying to ground myself, trying to breathe through the fever that made my skin feel too tight.
But all I could think was: The last thing I said to her was cruel.
And now she might be dead.
About an hour had passed with me sitting in that interrogation room, trying to explain everything I knew.
My fear for Leo was overwhelming, but the officers wouldn’t answer any of my questions. I felt like a child again. Constant dread roiled in my gut, nausea bubbling from the stress.
The two officers sat across from me, expressions professionally sympathetic but fundamentally skeptical. I could already see in their eyes that they thought I was just a sick girl in shock, desperate to make sense of a random tragedy.
“Your mother was investigating Ekklesia Biotech?” Officer Ramirez asked, pen poised over a notepad.
“Yes. She’s a medical researcher. She was looking into their trial protocols, their funding, their corporate structure.”