Part 3 — “Replace Grace”
“Replace Grace.”
Mother Elena stared at Father Gabriel.
For a moment, she thought she had misheard him.
“Replace her with what?”
Father Gabriel looked toward the empty coffin.
“Not what.”
His voice dropped.
“Who.”
Agnes began crying harder.
Elena gripped the paternity report.
“What are you talking about?”
Father Gabriel stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
The sound of the lock turning made Elena’s stomach tighten.
“You opened things that were meant to remain buried.”
“You drugged a young woman.”
“She was protected.”
“You impregnated her without her knowledge.”
“She was chosen.”
“She was violated.”
Father Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“Be careful, Elena.”
“No.”
She stepped toward him.
“You’re going to explain everything.”
His eyes moved toward the coffin.
Then toward the photographs.
Finally, he sighed.
“Grace was never supposed to live this long.”
Elena froze.
“What?”
Agnes stopped crying.
Even she seemed shocked.
Father Gabriel continued.
“When Grace was born, doctors discovered something unusual in her blood.”
Elena looked at him.
“What?”
“A hereditary condition.”
“Fatal?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Rare.”
He moved toward one of the old cabinets and opened it.
Inside were more files.
Hundreds.
Elena felt sick.
Father Gabriel removed one.
GRACE HOLLOWAY — ORIGINAL SUBJECT
Elena stared at the label.
“Subject?”
“Yes.”
Father Gabriel opened the folder.
There were childhood medical records.
Blood tests.
Photographs.
Notes.
Elena flipped through them.
“What is this?”
Father Gabriel answered quietly.
“Grace was conceived for a purpose.”
Silence.
Elena looked at him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“By who?”
Father Gabriel’s expression changed.
“By people who believed they could reproduce something that should have ended generations ago.”
Elena felt cold.
“What?”
He pointed toward Grace’s records.
“Her blood carries a mutation that makes tissue rejection unusually low.”
Elena frowned.
“You’re talking about transplants?”
“Among other things.”
“What does this have to do with pregnancies?”
Father Gabriel looked at the paternity report in her hand.
“The children inherit it.”
Elena’s grip tightened.
“You used her to produce genetically compatible children.”
“Yes.”
“For who?”
Father Gabriel did not answer.
Elena’s stomach turned.
“FOR WHO?”
He finally said:
“For her.”
Elena stared.
“For Grace?”
“No.”
He looked toward the coffin.
“For the woman Grace was created to replace.”
The room became silent.
Elena whispered:
“Who?”
Father Gabriel closed his eyes.
“My daughter.”
Agnes gasped.
Elena stared at him.
“You have a daughter?”
“Had.”
“What happened to her?”
“She became ill.”
“When?”
“Thirty-four years ago.”
Elena looked around at the files.
“This began before Grace was even born.”
“Yes.”
“What was your daughter’s name?”
Father Gabriel whispered:
“Lucia.”
Elena’s heart pounded.
“Did Grace know her?”
“No.”
“Did Grace know any of this?”
“No.”
“Then why her?”
Father Gabriel looked at the old photograph.
“Because Lucia was her mother.”
Elena stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Grace was Lucia’s daughter.”
Elena stared at him.
“You’re Grace’s grandfather?”
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“And Matthias?”
Father Gabriel looked away.
“Lucia’s son.”
Elena’s face drained.
“So Matthias was Grace’s uncle.”
“Yes.”
“Not her brother.”
“No.”
“Not her father.”
Father Gabriel hesitated.
Elena saw it.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Agnes whispered:
“Mother…”
Elena ignored her.
“Who was Grace’s father?”
Father Gabriel closed his eyes.
Then said:
“Matthias.”
Elena stepped backward.
“No.”
Father Gabriel’s voice shook.
“Lucia became pregnant by her own brother.”
Agnes covered her mouth.
Elena stared at him in horror.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“And you hid it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Lucia was dying.”
Elena could barely understand him.
Father Gabriel continued.
“Lucia had the same condition that later appeared in Grace’s blood, but hers was much more severe.”
“She was dying?”
“Yes.”
“And you thought having a child would save her?”
“We thought cord blood might.”
Elena looked sick.
“You made your children have a child together?”
Father Gabriel’s eyes filled with tears.
“I was desperate.”
“You were monstrous.”
“I was a father.”
“That doesn’t excuse it.”
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“It doesn’t.”
For the first time, he sounded like he knew that.
Elena looked toward the coffin again.
“Did Lucia survive?”
Father Gabriel shook his head.
“She died giving birth to Grace.”
The room fell silent.
“Then Grace was raised believing Matthias was her brother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because no one could know what had happened.”
“And Matthias?”
“He died years later.”
“How?”
Father Gabriel stared at the floor.
“He found out the truth.”
Elena’s expression changed.
“What truth?”
“That Grace was his daughter.”
“And?”
“He wanted to take her away.”
Father Gabriel went quiet.
Elena understood.
“You stopped him.”
Father Gabriel did not answer.
Elena’s voice dropped.
“Did you kill Matthias?”
Agnes gasped.
Father Gabriel whispered:
“It was an accident.”
Elena laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“He confronted me near the cliffs.”
“And?”
“We fought.”
“And he fell?”
Father Gabriel nodded.
Elena stared at the empty coffin.
“So the coffin was never for his body.”
“No.”
“What was it for?”
“To hide his samples.”
Elena looked at him with disgust.
“You preserved his genetic material after he died.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
He looked toward Grace’s pregnancy files.
“To continue the line.”
Elena’s hands started shaking.
“You have been making Grace carry her own father’s children.”
Father Gabriel flinched.
“Biologically, yes.”
“Year after year.”
“Yes.”
“Without her knowing.”
“Yes.”
“For what possible reason?”
Father Gabriel turned toward another cabinet.
He opened it.
Inside were small labeled containers.
Dates.
Names.
Baby records.
Elena stared.
“What is that?”
Father Gabriel whispered:
“The children are not being raised for the convent.”
Elena’s blood ran cold.
“Then where are they going?”
Agnes looked confused.
“What?”
Father Gabriel ignored her.
Elena stepped closer.
“Where are Grace’s babies?”
“The two she has now are not the only ones.”
Elena froze.
“What?”
Grace had two children in the convent.
One toddler.
One infant.
But Father Gabriel was saying—
“There were others.”
“How many?”
He said nothing.
“How many?”
“Five.”
Elena stopped breathing.
“Five?”
“Yes.”
“She has had five children?”
“Yes.”
“But she remembers only two births.”
“Because she was sedated.”
Agnes stared at him.
“You told me the first two were the only ones.”
Father Gabriel looked at her.
“You were told what you needed to know.”
Agnes backed away.
Elena whispered:
“Where are the other three?”
Father Gabriel hesitated.
Then:
“Adopted.”
“By who?”
“Families connected to the research.”
Elena felt nauseated.
“You sold them.”
“No.”
“You placed them.”
“You sold them.”
Father Gabriel’s silence answered.
Elena looked toward the door.
“We’re done.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“I’m taking Grace and her children out of here.”
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“She won’t leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because she believes this is her home.”
Elena stared at him.
“Then I’ll tell her the truth.”
Father Gabriel’s face hardened.
“No.”
Elena stepped toward the door.
He blocked her.
“You cannot tell her.”
“Move.”
“If Grace learns who Matthias really was, what do you think that will do to her?”
Elena stopped.
Father Gabriel continued.
“If she learns her children were conceived using her dead father’s genetic material?”
Elena’s face twisted.
“Yes. It will destroy her.”
“And if she learns some of her babies were taken away before she ever woke?”
Elena closed her eyes.
“That will destroy her too.”
“Then why tell her?”
Elena looked at him.
“Because pain does not give you the right to steal someone’s truth.”
Father Gabriel said nothing.
Then a sound came from above.
A scream.
Grace.
Elena’s head snapped upward.
“Grace!”
She ran toward the stairs.
Father Gabriel grabbed her arm.
“Wait.”
She shoved him away.
Another scream.
Then a child crying.
Elena ran.
Agnes followed.
Father Gabriel shouted behind them.
“ELENA!”
They reached Grace’s room.
The bed was empty.
The toddler was crying near the door.
The infant was gone.
Elena froze.
“Where’s the baby?”
Grace appeared in the corridor.
Barefoot.
Terrified.
“My baby!”
She grabbed Elena.
“Someone took Miguel!”
Elena’s heart stopped.
“Who?”
“I don’t know!”
Then Grace pointed down the corridor.
“I saw someone carrying him toward the chapel.”
Elena turned.
The chapel bell began ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
At three in the morning.
Again.
Elena grabbed Grace’s hand.
“Stay with me.”
They ran toward the chapel.
The main doors were open.
Inside, candles were burning everywhere.
Miguel’s cries echoed from behind the altar.
Elena rushed forward.
Then stopped.
A woman stood there holding the baby.
Young.
Maybe twenty-five.
Dressed in plain clothes.
Not a nun.
Grace screamed:
“Give me my son!”
The woman looked at Grace.
And began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Elena stepped between them.
“Who are you?”
The woman shook her head.
“I didn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“That she was my mother.”
Grace froze.
“What?”
The woman looked at her.
Her hands trembled around the baby.
“My name is Sofia.”
Grace stared at her.
“I don’t know you.”
“I know.”
Sofia started crying harder.
“I was adopted from this convent twenty-three years ago.”
Elena felt cold.
Grace whispered:
“Twenty-three?”
Sofia nodded.
“My adoptive parents were told my birth mother had died.”
Grace’s face went white.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
Grace slowly shook her head.
“That’s impossible.”
Grace herself was only twenty-eight.
Elena’s stomach dropped.
A five-year-old could not have given birth.
Unless—
Sofia looked toward Father Gabriel, who had just entered the chapel.
“You told me she was my mother.”
Everyone turned.
Father Gabriel looked furious.
“Sofia, put the baby down.”
Sofia shook her head.
“No.”
Grace stared between them.
“What is happening?”
Elena whispered:
“Father Gabriel?”
Sofia looked at Grace.
“He lied to both of us.”
Then she said:
“You’re not my mother.”
Grace stared at her.
Sofia continued.
“You’re my sister.”
Elena stopped breathing.
Grace whispered:
“What?”
Sofia looked toward Father Gabriel.
“My biological mother was Lucia.”
Silence.
Grace’s mother.
Sofia’s mother.
That made Sofia Grace’s older sister.
But Lucia had supposedly died giving birth to Grace.
Grace shook her head.
“No. My mother died when I was born.”
Sofia looked at Father Gabriel.
“That’s what he told everyone.”
Elena turned slowly toward him.
“Lucia survived.”
Father Gabriel’s face changed.
Sofia nodded.
“She lived for five more years.”
Grace stared at her.
“Five years?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is she?”
Sofia began sobbing.
Father Gabriel whispered:
“Don’t.”
Sofia looked at Grace.
“They kept her beneath the convent.”
Elena’s blood ran cold.
“What?”
Sofia continued.
“In the same medical wing.”
Grace’s hands began shaking.
“Why?”
“Because she tried to expose them.”
Elena turned toward Father Gabriel.
“You imprisoned your own daughter?”
He said nothing.
Sofia continued.
“And when Lucia tried to leave with Grace…”
Her voice broke.
“…she disappeared.”
Grace stared at Father Gabriel.
“What did you do to my mother?”
He looked away.
Grace screamed:
“WHAT DID YOU DO?”
Father Gabriel whispered:
“I protected you.”
Grace slapped him.
Hard.
The sound echoed through the chapel.
“You keep calling everything protection!”
Tears streamed down her face.
“My pregnancies?”
“Grace—”
“My children?”
“Please.”
“My mother?”
Father Gabriel closed his eyes.
Grace stepped closer.
“Where is she?”
Silence.
“WHERE IS MY MOTHER?”
Father Gabriel looked toward the floor.
Then whispered:
“She never left.”
Elena felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
Father Gabriel turned toward a stone panel behind the altar.
There was an old iron latch.
He pulled it.
A section of the chapel floor opened.
A staircase descended.
Grace backed away.
“No.”
Elena whispered:
“Another room?”
Father Gabriel shook his head.
“A crypt.”
They descended.
At the bottom were six coffins.
Grace held Elena’s hand.
One coffin had Lucia’s name.
Grace collapsed beside it.
“No.”
She touched the wood.
“Mom?”
No answer.
Of course.
The coffin had been sealed for decades.
Grace sobbed.
Then Elena noticed something.
The dust around the coffin had been disturbed.
Recently.
She touched the lock.
New.
Like Matthias’s coffin.
“Wait.”
Father Gabriel went pale.
“Elena…”
She opened it.
Grace screamed.
There was no body.
Instead, a woman lay inside.
Alive.
Very old.
Very thin.
A breathing tube beneath her nose.
Grace stared.
The woman opened her eyes.
Her lips moved.
“Grace?”
Grace stopped breathing.
Father Gabriel whispered:
“No…”
The woman raised a trembling hand.
Grace reached for it.
“Mom?”
Tears rolled down the woman’s face.
“Yes.”
Grace collapsed against the coffin.
Her mother was alive.
After twenty-three years.
Alive beneath the convent.
But then Lucia looked toward Sofia.
Her expression changed.
“Sofia?”
Sofia started crying.
“You know me?”
Lucia nodded weakly.
“My baby.”
Sofia fell to her knees.
Grace stared between them.
Then Lucia looked at Miguel.
The infant.
Her grandson.
She began shaking her head.
“No.”
Grace frowned.
“What?”
Lucia looked terrified.
“Take him away.”
Grace tightened her hold on the baby.
“Why?”
Lucia’s eyes moved toward Father Gabriel.
Then she whispered:
“He isn’t Grace’s child.”
Everyone froze.
Grace stared at her mother.
“What?”
Lucia pointed toward Miguel.
“That baby…”
Her voice broke.
“…belongs to Sofia.”
Sofia stopped breathing.
Grace stared at her sister.
Elena felt the room tilt.
Another switched child.
Another stolen birth.
Grace whispered:
“What are you saying?”
Lucia looked at Father Gabriel with hatred.
“He’s been switching the babies.”
Elena stared at him.
“Why?”
Lucia’s voice became barely audible.
“So none of you would ever know which children belonged to whom.”
Grace looked down at Miguel.
The baby she had nursed.
The baby she had loved.
Sofia stared at him too.
And suddenly the mystery was bigger than Grace’s pregnancies.
Bigger than the convent.
Because if Miguel was Sofia’s child—
then somewhere there was another baby.
Grace’s actual baby.
And Lucia whispered the one sentence that made everyone in the crypt go silent:
“Grace’s child was taken out of this convent three months ago.”
Grace’s face collapsed.
“Where?”
Lucia looked at Father Gabriel.
Then at Elena.
And whispered:
“Ask him who paid for her.”
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