Chapter 13

I don’t remember walking back to my room.

I don’t remember closing the door behind me, or pressing my back against it, or clutching my arms as if holding myself together.

All I can hear is Julian’s voice.

"I took your memories because you begged me to."

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.

Why would I beg him to erase myself?

What could be so terrible that I would rather not know than live with it?

I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. The fragments are there, lurking at the edges of my mind. The flashes. The hands covered in blood. The voice in my head telling me to run.

I breathe, slow and uneven. I need answers.

I need them now.

But Julian—Julian won’t tell me the truth.

Not all of it.

I open my eyes and step toward the door. My hands are still shaking as I grip the handle, my heart pounding. I don’t know where I’m going.

I just know I can’t sit here waiting anymore.

The hallway is dimly lit, the sconces casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. The mansion is silent, except for the faint crackle of the fireplace in the main sitting room below.

I walk, my steps careful, my breath shallow.

Then—

Voices.

I stop.

They’re coming from the study. The door is cracked open just enough for the glow of candlelight to spill into the hall.

And then I hear—

Julian.

I inhale sharply, pressing myself against the wall. His voice is lower than usual, tired, raw.

"She saw him."

Silence.

Then—Celeste.

I stiffen.

"And?" Her voice is unreadable.

Julian exhales sharply. "She’s starting to question things."

Celeste scoffs. "Well, that was inevitable, wasn’t it?"

Julian’s voice tightens. "I thought I had more time."

My stomach twists. Time? Time for what?

Celeste sighs. "Julian, you can’t keep holding onto this fantasy. She’s remembering."

"I know," he mutters. "And if she remembers everything—"

A pause.

A heavy, terrible pause.

And then, so quietly I almost don’t hear it—

"I’ll lose her."

I go still.

My pulse roars in my ears.

I clutch the fabric of my robe, my breath shaking.

"I’ll lose her."

The words slice through me.

Celeste sighs again, softer this time. "Maybe you already have."

Julian doesn’t speak.

The silence is worse.

Because I know what it means.

He thinks I’ll leave him.

He thinks that once I know the truth—**the real truth—**I’ll never look at him the same way again.

And that terrifies him.

Something in my chest tightens, aches.

Because he’s right.

I don’t know the truth yet.

But when I do—

I don’t think I’ll stay.