Shortly before 2 PM, a cab pulled up in front of Richland Industries' main entrance. After paying the driver, Elena got out and walked toward the doors. She hesitated, took a deep breath, and walked in. As she headed over to the guard desk, she heard a familiar voice. She turned to see Ron Hamilton walking toward her.

"Miss Kingston, it's good to see you again." He held out his hand, and she shook it. "I've already signed you in, so if you'll put on the visitor's badge, we'll head up to my office."

It seemed like she barely had time to catch her breath before she found herself once again sitting in front of his desk, and he was behind it. Next to her was an older man with a full head of white hair and pleasant brown eyes. Ron had introduced him as a long time executive with the company. His name was Isaiah Abbott, and he greeted her pleasantly, telling her she should call him by his first name.

"I've told Isaiah about our first meeting, which was also our only one, and when you called, I informed him," Ron said. "He felt he should be here to meet you and hear what you have to say."

"Of course. Well, as you know, I believe that George and Virginia Stewart are my parents. Since my visit to this place on Monday, I've become more certain about that. I've gotten more bits of memory, but not enough. I've spoken to some of the people who knew them, and they seem to believe that I am related to the Stewarts."

"What is it exactly that you want to know?"

"I believe the reasons they died and I can't remember anything before I was fourteen is due to Mark Haskell. I'd like to know how well he and my father knew each other. I had a flash of memory when my mother and I visited here – it didn't look anything like it does now – and I saw Haskell by a water cooler. I'd also like to know why he was fired."

The two men looked at each other. Finally Isaiah said, "They were co-workers, but not friends. They didn't fraternize here or – as far as I know – anywhere else. But concerning the reason he was fired, I want to know why you need the answer to that."

Elena hesitated, wanting to choose her words carefully. "Some of my memories are leading me to believe that he is responsible for my parents' death, as well as my whereabouts during the time I can't remember. And what he did during that interval may be related to the reason he was fired. Please, I don't want to disseminate the information; I just want to learn more about myself and the way I –" She stopped.

"The way you what?" Ron asked. She saw a sense of urgency in his eyes and looked over at Isaiah. He had the same look. She became uneasy, but her need to know was greater. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"Under certain conditions, I become more violent than I should. It usually happens when I feel threatened. I keep getting the feeling that Haskell did something to me that made me that way. Please, what was he working on and why was he fired?"

The two men looked at each other. "I believe her, Isaiah. I think she has a right to know."

"What if she isn't who she says she is?"

"There's no way to prove that conclusively. We have no DNA samples from Stewart. And if Haskell experimented on her, any sample we took from her would be altered."

Isaiah sat back and looked from Ron to Elena. Then he stood up and paced the room meditatively. Several minutes passed, while Elena tried to think of something else to say to convince him to let her have the information. She had to be careful, and not just for her own sake.

Finally he sat back down, after turning his chair to face her. "I will tell you, but this information must not leave the room. Agreed?"

She knew she would have to tell Vincent and Father, but she felt certain they would not tell anyone else. And she certainly couldn't tell these men about them. "Agreed."

"Mark Haskell was working to develop a drug that would suppress the more violent emotions. At least, that was what he was supposed to be working on. In fact, he was doing the opposite. And he was putting his formula into that water cooler you probably saw him at. It was several months before he was caught, and by then the damage was done.

"Two of the other researchers got into an argument, and started aknock-down, drag-outfight.It took several people to get them apart.Once they calmed down, they both expressed astonishment at their behavior. Everyone knew them as very mild mannered up until then. And there were other small incidents that made people suspicious that something was going on.

"Haskell was spotted pouring something into a full container of water two days later, then putting the container on the cooler. When it and the small amounts of water left in a couple of other containers were analyzed, we realized what he'd been doing. We collected his notes (he hadn't been allowed to return to his lab) and found the formula. It was destroyed; no copy remains."

"However, he could have remembered the formula, and kidnapped me to experiment on. But why me?"

"George Stewart was the one who spotted him and blew the whistle. He used to drink a lot from that cooler, and even took a jug home once in a while. I imagine you and your mother may have had some."

"Oh, God!" It was Elena's turn to get up and pace, but hers was agitated. A lousy chemical formula did this to Vincent and me? What kind of monster was Mark Haskell? And how do I tell Vincent about this?

Just then, another memory flashed into her mind. It was one of her mother and father talking seriously; her mother was crying. She remembered her mother saying, "I don't care; I'm going to have this baby. We'll deal with things as they come. But I'm not going to abort him."

She remembered that her mother was getting fat – or that's the way it seemed to a four-year-old. Now that she thought about it, and had seen other pregnant women, she thought that her mother must have been at about the halfway point, maybe a little further along. That means over four months of that formula penetrating every part of her body while she was pregnant. And how long before that were we drinking that formula? No wonder Vincent was born looking like a little lion.

"Miss Kingston."

Elena stopped her pacing and turned to face Isaiah. She looked at him questioningly.

"I remember that your mother – er, Mrs. Stewart was pregnant. What happened to the baby?"

"Mark Haskell killed it."

"Are you sure?"

"I remember him taking the baby and me, then putting me someplace where I couldn't run away and leaving me for a while. When he returned, he told me the baby was dead."

"You believed him?"

"Mr. Abbott," she replied, mistrusting the eager look in his eyes, "I was four years old at the time. I didn't understand what was happening. I only knew that the baby was no longer with us."

"Do you know where Mark Haskell is now?"

"He's dead. If there's any justice, he's in Hell."

Vincent was pacing the tunnels. After he sensed that Elena had gone to her meeting, he couldn't concentrate on any of the books he had, and his son was napping. He'd gone to the Mirror Pool, but it didn't calm him as it usually did. There was an air of expectation about him, and animpatience to know.

He stopped suddenly, as he felt a variety of emotions coming from his sister. There were so many in such a short space of time. When they finally eased off, he realized he'd been holding his breath. He let it out, and took a few deep ones. He resumed his pacing, but it was slower, and finally he sat down at the edge of the pool.

Shortly after, he knew she was heading back to Manhattan. He felt her trying to calm herself, then suddenly there was a strong wave of anger and hate. He grabbed his head, but almost as swiftly as it came, it faded. But it left him drained, and he lay back on the floor, his legs still dangling over the edge.

When he felt his strength return, he sensed that Elena had arrived at her apartment and gone into her room. He realized that she was also weakened, but had held out until she was home and safe. He knew it when she collapsed on her bed.

After dark, I will go to her. I must know what happened. And what caused such rage. Slowly Vincent got to his feet and headed back to his chamber.