Chapter 62
Chapter 62 (Nell’s POV)
Waking up felt different this time.
Like I’d been pulled through a tunnel—long, dark, and cold—only to surface into a quiet warmth that waited just for me.
The light above was soft, not blinding. The sheets under me smelled like fabric softener and something faintly citrus. My mouth was dry. My limbs ached.
But I was here.
Alive.
Breathing.
And not alone.
When I turned my head, the first thing I saw was Alex. He was sitting in the same chair, the same position, his eyes fixed on me like if he blinked, I might vanish again.
“You’re here,” I croaked.
His hand immediately reached for mine.
“I’m here,” he said, voice soft, cracking slightly. “You came back.”
I stared at him. Something inside me fluttered, strong and quiet.
“I remember pieces,” I whispered.
He nodded slowly. “That’s okay. You don’t need to force it.”
“I remember the bridge. The train. You—holding me.”
A smile pulled gently at his lips. “Then you remember enough.”
I let his hand stay in mine. His thumb traced slow circles against my skin. I watched him, the way he watched me—like he was memorizing every blink, every breath, like he still didn’t trust that I was real.
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
“I’m not,” he said. “Not until I know everything in you is yours again.”
\---
We stayed like that for a long time.
No machines beeping. No alarms.
Just us.
Quiet.
Still.
Eventually, I stirred again and asked, “Where’s Rick?”
Alex tilted his head slightly. “Outside. He didn’t want to crowd you.”
“And Langston?”
“Keeping watch.”
“And… Cross?”
Alex’s jaw tensed. “Gone. For now.”
I sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off my shoulders. My head didn’t hurt, but there was a strange buzzing under my skin—like something inside me had changed. Was still changing.
I touched my temple without thinking.
“The implant?”
Alex nodded.
“It’s still there,” he said. “But it’s stabilized.”
“How?”
He looked at me, then said carefully, “You pulled yourself back… through me. Through us.”
I stared at him.
“I saw things,” I said. “Memories I know were mine. And some I didn’t recognize at all.”
Alex hesitated. “That might’ve been from me. Some of my memories were… transferred.”
“You gave them to me?”
“I didn’t mean to. But I don’t regret it.”
\---
There was a knock on the door.
Rick stepped in, holding a thick manila folder.
“You’re awake,” he said, offering a small, cautious smile.
“I guess I am,” I said.
He walked over and held out the file.
“You wanted answers,” he said. “They’re in here.”
I took the folder with both hands. It was heavier than I expected.
I stared at it. The edges were creased, the label nearly rubbed off.
Subject 0427-Hayes, Eleanor.
“You kept this hidden from me,” I said quietly.
Rick nodded. “For your safety. That was the original idea.”
“You also said Alex volunteered.”
Rick’s face changed. “Yes.”
I looked at Alex.
He didn’t look surprised.
“You knew?”
“I found out recently,” he said. “I thought I was protecting you, but I was part of what broke you.”
I looked back at Rick.
“Why would he say yes to something like this?”
Rick opened his mouth. Then closed it.
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not. He was told it would save someone. That’s all I know.”
\---
I opened the folder.
Page after page of notes. Diagrams. Emotional spectrum charts. Test observations.
A paragraph caught my eye.
> Subject demonstrates unusually high emotional retention. Phase II memory revision unsuccessful. Recommendation: Terminate and reprogram or isolate from other Phase subjects.
I swallowed.
“That’s about me,” I said.
Alex nodded. “They couldn’t erase your love. That’s why they called you a risk.”
I flipped another page.
This one had a photo.
Me.
Eyes glassy.
Unsmiling.
And stamped in red at the top:
PHASE ONE: PROTOTYPE HOST
\---
My heart stopped.
“Prototype?” I whispered.
Alex leaned in. “What is it?”
I turned the file toward him.
His expression hardened.
“She wasn’t just a subject,” Langston said, appearing in the doorway. “She was the first.”
“The first what?” I asked.
“The first to hold artificial memories without rejection. The baseline for all others.”
“So… the dream life?”
Langston nodded.
“Designed for you. Engineered. Inserted.”
I looked at Alex. “And you?”
He looked down.
“I was assigned to it… but then I changed it. Without permission.”
My mouth fell open. “You changed what?”
“I loved you. And I didn’t want to let you go.”
“You were part of it?” I asked. “From the beginning?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
\---
I sat back, dizzy.
“You all used me,” I said. “I wasn’t just part of the experiment—I was the experiment.”
“No,” Alex said, quickly. “You were never just a subject. You were the reason the entire project collapsed. Because you loved too deeply for them to erase it.”
My throat tightened.
“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” I whispered.
Alex leaned closer.
“This,” he said. “You. Me. This moment—it’s real.”
I looked into his eyes.
And for a second, it felt like something in me believed him.