And also: what did a building like this need a person like Jamie for?
“Sure,” Jamie said, smile brightening to an even higher wattage. “If you’re ever around here and want to come by, don’t hesitate. You can ask old Richie to show you the way; he knows how to get in here.”
“Really?” Everly beamed at him—overkill, perhaps, but effective, nonetheless. “Thank you, that would be perfect.”
“Right,” Jamie said. “Well, shall we then?”
Shortly after leaving Jamie’s office, Everly stood beside Jamie as he knocked on another black door. He turned to her and winked. “Something really cool about this building’s security system,” he said. “There are certain doors in the building that are coded to only open at a particular person’s touch—it recognizes their fingerprints. My office, for instance, wouldn’t open for you, unless I let you in, and it wouldn’t open for Richard, either. Just like his lab here won’t open for me.”
Everly started to ask how that worked, when the door sprang open and revealed Richard standing on the other side. His mouth was open, as though he had been about to scold them. He looked back and forth between Everly and Jamie.
“Everly,” Richard said, his expression somewhere between pleased and bewildered.
Before Everly could speak, Jamie jumped in. “I found her stranded in the lobby, figured I’d show her down to your lab. Hope that was okay and all.”
Richard pushed the door open slightly wider. “Of course, thank you.” He looked at Everly. “Well, come on in.”
Everly stepped inside the lab, and Jamie made as though to follow, but before he could Richard started to close the door. “Thank you, Jamie. I really do appreciate it.” And then the door clicked shut—locking Jamie out, if what he had told Everly about the fingerprints was true.
Once they were alone, Richard spun to Everly. “You came back.”
“I said I would,” was all she said.
She then took the opportunity to look around the lab. It was different from the other two rooms Jamie had shown her. There were labeled bins with items varying from syringes to hydrogen peroxide, a desk with a single computer on top, an entire wall covered in tall filing cabinets. It all looked neat and orderly, but at the same time she could sense a tumultuousness underneath it all—probably due to Richard’s inherent chaotic energy.
“Before we begin,” Everly said, walking around the space, pausing to peer into boxes and pull open unlocked drawers. “Tell me what you know.”
Richard blinked. “What I know?”
“About my dad. You said he came here.”
“Yes,” Richard said. He was standing far away from her, she noticed. Like a man afraid of a rabid dog. “He did come here. Shortly before he died.”
“Why did he come?”
“He came here for you, Everly. To help you.”
“Help me? What do you mean?”
There was a weariness to Richard’s stance, like he knew the questions she was going to ask and wasn’t happy about having to answer them. “I mentioned before your headaches,” he said. “They were a sign, an indication that . . . it was time to bring you here. To show you this place. On that count, your father and I agreed.”
“A sign of what?” Everly asked, pressing. “How did he even know about this place?”
Richard ignored her first question, but replied, “He had come here before. With your mother.”
Everly’s head snapped to him. “My mother came here, too?”
“Years ago. Before she had you. They both came and saw the work I did here.”
“And that’s when you tested my mother?”
Richard frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You said she had this . . . genetic trait. Anomaly. Whatever. So, you had to have tested her, right?”
“Not . . . exactly,” Richard said. “It was different for you mother.”
“Why?”
With a sigh, Richard said, “Let’s just say I had other reasons to suspect she was enhanced. I didn’t need to test her formerly—as you have promised to be—to know that she had the genetic anomaly.”
“But—” Everly started.
“Now before I answer any more of your questions, I’m going to insist that you sit here.” Richard gestured to a chair that looked like something out of a dental office. “We’ll do the testing, and once I have the results, then I will answer all of your remaining questions.”
Everly scowled at the man. She didn’t trust him—she wanted to insist that no, he would answer all of her questions first, and then, only then, would she allow him to test her. Whatever that meant.
But almost against her will, she felt herself acquiescing. She had to admit, she was curious. She wanted to know what all of this meant: tests and genetics and enhancement. She wanted to understand.
So, she sat in the chair Richard had indicated as he walked swiftly over to one of the labeled boxes, rummaging around for a moment before standing straight with a scowl.
“I seem to have run out of clean needles. You stay here, I will return momentarily.” With that, he dashed out of the lab, barely sparing Everly a parting glance.
As soon as he was gone, Everly leaped out of her chair. For all his promises, Richard had yet to give her any tangible answers. If he wouldn’t give them himself, then maybe his lab would.
She walked swiftly to his desk, clicking for the computer to open and then frowning when she saw it was locked. Opening the first drawer in the desk, she found nothing out of the ordinary—extra pens, stationery, paper clips. Conscientious of the seconds ticking away until Richard returned, Everly yanked open the drawer below that and suppressed a yelp of victory when she found it filled to the brim with thin, leatherbound notebooks. She pulled one out at random, flipping it open to scan its contents. Below a date of 1952 scrawled at the top, she read:
