Chapter 5 Bleed Now, Ask Later

If you ever want to find out how far someone will go to protect a secret, steal something they'd kill to keep hidden.

And tonight, that secret was buried under layers of brick, dust, and lies-somewhere in the abandoned archive beneath Crestwick General Hospital.

We parked two blocks away, under a busted streetlamp. The night was sticky and too quiet. Dani adjusted her hoodie and triple-checked her bag for the gear she'd packed flashlights, gloves, a tiny crowbar, and a very illegal keycard scanner.

"You sure you want to do this?" she asked.

"No," I said, tying my hair back. "But we're out of easy options."

Alec killed the engine. "The lower level hasn't been touched in years. Whatever's down there, it was meant to be forgotten."

"Or buried," Dani muttered.

The hospital itself had closed after a flood nearly a decade ago. Officially, it was condemned. Unofficially, the Foundation used the lower levels as a storage site for their "miscellaneous" which, in this world, probably meant surveillance files, genetic reports, and enough blackmail material to detonate a city.

I wasn't just looking for a ledger anymore.

I was looking for who I was before this all started.

The fire exit creaked open after Alec hotwired the door lock. Inside, the air was thick with mildew and mold. Paint peeled like snake skin. The main hall was flooded in darkness, the only light coming from the thin beam of Dani's flashlight.

"This way," Alec said. "The basement access should be behind the old pediatric wing."

The deeper we walked, the colder it got. Like the walls were holding their breath.

It didn't take long to find the stairwell half-collapsed, metal rusted. Dani went first, testing each step before moving.

At the bottom, a hallway stretched ahead, the tiles cracked, and graffiti staining the walls like blood.

"Which room?" I asked.

Alec checked a hand-drawn map he'd pieced together from old construction plans. "Room 213. East side archive."

We moved quickly. Every step felt like it echoed in the bones of the building.

Then we found the door.

It was welded shut.

"Cute," Dani muttered. "Plan B?"

She dug out a mini plasma cutter from her bag something she'd "borrowed" from a tech internship last summer and went to work.

"You good?" Alec asked me, voice low.

"I should be asking you that."

He gave a tight smile. "I've broken into data centers, museums, even a Swiss bank. This is the first time it's ever felt personal."

"Because it is."

A click snapped between us. The door creaked open.

Inside was chaos. Filing cabinets overturned. Hard drives shattered. Papers strewn like a hurricane had hit.

But the center of the room held a single fireproof chest. Locked. Untouched.

Alec knelt beside it. "Same seal as the Foundation. I can crack it."

I crouched beside him, heart thudding. "You think it's the ledger?"

"Or something worse."

He worked fast, hands precise. The seal hissed, then gave.

He opened it.

Inside: dozens of labeled folders. Some stamped CONFIDENTIAL. Some marked PROJECT NOVA: SUBSET MONROE. My breath caught.

I reached in and pulled out the top folder.

The first page was a birth certificate. Mine.

But the name in the mother field wasn't Sylvia Monroe.

It was someone named Margot Leclair.

"What the hell?" I whispered.

Alec leaned over, reading with me. "That's not possible."

"She raised me. Sylvia was my mother."

"Maybe not biologically," he said carefully.

I flipped to the next document. A contract. The kind signed with blood and consequences. A donor agreement. A child selected by genetics. Part of a trial to "establish continuity in elite lineages."

"They built me," I said hollowly. "Designed me like an investment."

Dani looked like she might throw up.

"Ivy, I'm so sorry."

I barely heard her.

I kept reading.

My mother hadn't just left the Foundation. She'd tried to take everything down with her. Copies of letters. Notes. Names.

One name kept showing up again and again.

A. Delacroix

I froze.

Alec's expression didn't change. But he didn't look surprised either.

"You knew," I said, standing. "Didn't you?"

He rose slowly. "I didn't know for sure."

"You said your father cut you off. That you weren't part of this."

"I'm not part of it. I left when I found out what they did to families like yours."

I shook my head. "You should've told me. From the second you saw that name."

"I didn't want you to see me the way you see them."

"You should've let me decide that."

The tension broke hard and fast. I stepped back, clutching the folder like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

A loud crash outside the door cut the silence.

Then voices. Multiple. Fast. Male.

"They're here," Dani whispered. "We have to go."

Alec grabbed the whole chest, ripping out a locator chip and smashing it with his heel. We ducked out a side maintenance door and sprinted through the basement corridors.

Footsteps thundered behind us.

"They know what we found!" I said.

"Correction," Alec said, breathless. "They knew we would."

We burst out the emergency exit into the alley straight into blinding headlights.

An SUV screeched to a stop.

Dani yelled, "DOWN!" just as a window rolled down.

Gunshots split the air.

Alec tackled me behind a dumpster. Dani dove behind a stairwell.

I heard tires screech, and when I looked up, the SUV was gone but so was Alec.

He was on the ground, blood soaking through his sleeve.

"Shit, shit " I pressed my hands over the wound. "You're okay. It's just your arm."

"I've had worse," he grimaced.

"Which is the most disturbing thing you've said tonight."

Dani pulled her phone. "Calling the burner line. Get help here now."

I looked at Alec. His skin had gone pale, but his eyes were locked on mine.

"Listen," he said. "Don't trust anyone until we know who leaked this. Not even me."

My throat tightened. "Why would you say that?"

"Because if my family has anything to do with this... they'll use me next."

I stared at him, knees planted in grimy pavement, hands still slick with blood.

"Alec, that doesn't even make sense. You're not some some pawn they can just move."

He gave me a tired smile. "You think that, but you haven't met my father."

Dani returned with gauze and antiseptic from the go-bag in her trunk. "We need to move. They'll come back to finish what they started."

"We can't go to a hospital," I said. "They'll be watching for any ER admission."

"Luckily, I know a guy," Dani muttered, helping Alec to his feet.

"You know a guy for bullet wounds?" I asked.

She gave me a sideways glance. "You'd be surprised what kind of friends you make when you crash a senator's yacht party and accidentally steal federal surveillance files."

I didn't have the energy to ask. I just nodded and helped Alec into the back seat of her car. His head lolled a bit, but he was awake barely.

We ended up in the back room of a tattoo parlor in Lower Farrow, with a guy named Silas, who looked like he'd survived six wars, five divorces, and one cult.

"You kids are always showing up with holes in you," he muttered, threading a needle.

"You can stitch him up, right?" I asked.

Silas grunted. "I can stitch him up, put a dragon tattoo over it, and give him a tetanus shot, if you want."

Dani leaned against the door. "Just the stitching, thanks."

As Silas worked, Alec bit down on a rolled cloth and kept his eyes locked on mine.

"I'm sorry," he said between clenched teeth.

"For what?"

"For not telling you sooner. About my last name. About what the Foundation really is."

I swallowed hard. "I'm mad, Alec. But I'm also scared. And I think you are too."

His voice was barely a whisper. "More than I've ever been."

Silas tied the final stitch. "He's gonna need rest. And probably a new liver if you keep this up."

I cracked the faintest smile. "Noted."

Later that night, Dani and I sat on the rooftop of her apartment building, watching the city sprawl beneath us.

She handed me a worn flask. "Water," she said. "Unfortunately."

I took a sip. "Thanks."

"So," she said. "Your birth certificate is a lie. Your mom was part of an experimental project. And your almost-boyfriend is the enemy's son."

"Summed up beautifully."

"Still want to burn it all down?"

"I don't think I have a choice anymore."

Dani leaned her head against my shoulder. "Good. Because we just got a new lead."

I turned to her. "What?"

She pulled out a flash drive. "I copied a file from the chest before we ran. Didn't tell Alec. Figured we might need a backup plan."

I stared at her. "And what's on it?"

She plugged it into her tablet. The screen flickered, then loaded a black-and-white video feed grainy, timestamped.

I leaned in.

It was footage of a lab. Clinical. Cold.

And in the center: a child. No older than five. Hooked up to machines.

There was a label on the monitor:

SUBJECT 13 – MONROE PROTOTYPE (IVY M.)

My stomach dropped.

"They were watching me before I could read," I whispered.

Dani nodded grimly. "And they weren't just watching. They were testing."

The camera panned toward a familiar silhouette standing behind the glass wall.

Tall. Sharp suit. Unmistakable posture.

Alec's father.

"Welcome to your origin story," Dani said. "Now what are we going to do with it?"

I looked out at the city. My mind buzzed with every betrayal, every lie, every bloodstain.

"I'm going to take it all down."

And this time, I meant it.