Hailey

The paper felt like a piece of dry ice in my hand. It was cold, sharp, and felt like it was burning right through my skin. I stood in the middle of Evans' study, the yellowed birth record trembling between my fingers. I looked at the names again. Nancy. Hailey. My vision blurred, and the ink seemed to bleed across the page until the third line came into focus.

"Subject Three," I whispered. My voice didn't sound like mine. It was hollow, like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

Evans was watching me from across the desk. His face was a mask of worry, his dark...