CHAPTER 5 THE DEAD MAN WALKED INTO THE COURTROOM. Three days later.
Every television station in America broadcast the emergency federal hearing.
Camila Whitmore entered wearing white.
Elegant.
Perfect.
She smiled for the cameras.
"I've been falsely accused by unstable people."
Reporters applauded.
Judges nodded.
Then the courtroom doors opened.
Everyone turned.
A thin man slowly walked inside.
Barefoot.
Bruised.
Alive.
Alexander.
The room fell silent.
Camila didn't scream.
She simply smiled.
"As expected."
Then she clapped twice.
The lights went out.
Gunfire erupted.
Smoke grenades exploded across the courtroom.
People scattered.
When the smoke cleared...
Alexander was gone.
So was Camila.
Only one thing remained on the witness stand.
The rag doll.
Its stomach had been stitched back together.
Inside...
another note.
This time written by Camila herself.
"You finally found Level One. Now come find me... if you're willing to learn who your daughter really is."
I looked at Sophie.
She was staring at the note.
Not frightened.
Not confused.
She quietly whispered words that no five-year-old should have known.
"I remember the white room..."
Every adult in the courtroom froze.
May you like
Because Sophie had just described, in perfect detail...
the underground laboratory that had never been made public.
