The photograph burned in my hands. Not literally. The crystal in my bag had that market cornered. But the image of my mother, young and vulnerable, wired up like a lab rat while a Gate swirled behind her...
That burned plenty.
"How long?" My voice came out flatter than I intended. "How long have you known about this?"
Helena's expression didn't change. Twenty years of keeping secrets had given her a poker face that would make professional gamblers weep with envy.
"I discovered the photograph three years ago. Hidden in a false bottom of my father's personal effects. Along with his journal entries about the original Prometheus candidates." She gestured toward a filing cabinet in the corner. "Everything is documented. Dates. Names. Results. The VHC kept meticulous records of their atrocities."
"And you just sat on this information?"
