Chapter 158 Healing Ryan and the Fourth Mask Falls
Ryan's eyes held a faint, puzzled light, as if the weight of the word "future" hadn't fully settled in his mind. His small fingers tightened around the cotton candy stick, but his gaze drifted, uncertain.
Amelia kept her eyes on him, her voice soft yet anchored with quiet conviction. "The road ahead is long, Ryan. Life will always have storms and obstacles. I hope you can be like the sunflower you're holding—never afraid of the rain, always turning toward the light, always brave."
Little Ryan blinked at her, his expression caught between confusion and curiosity. He didn't know who this Amelia really was, nor why she would suddenly speak to him like this. But something in her tone made him straighten a little, as if taking her words seriously.
He gripped the cotton candy tighter, like a child making a solemn promise, and nodded. "I promise… I'll be a happy person. A person who smiles."
Amelia lifted a hand and ruffled his hair gently, her smile warm but tinged with knowing. "I think I know the truth, Ryan. You came to the amusement park today, but you weren't really happy."
His eyes widened in surprise, locking on her. "…How do you know that?"
"Because I have a special ability," Amelia said, her gaze steady on his clear, unguarded eyes. "I can hear what's in people's hearts. And I know the thing you truly wanted today wasn't the park… and it wasn't this cotton candy."
Ryan's breath caught.
"What you wanted," she continued softly, "was for your mother to spend the whole day with you—just you. Not busy looking after your two younger brothers."
His eyes grew even wider, the disbelief giving way to a fragile hope, as if he'd just discovered someone in the world could truly understand him.
"Look over there." Amelia's lips curved faintly as she pointed toward the amusement park's main gate.
A woman in a tailored coat stood there, scanning the crowd. The moment Ryan's gaze landed on Jenny, his eyes lit up, joy bursting through him like sunlight breaking clouds.
He clutched the cotton candy, sprang to his feet, and ran toward the gate, calling out, "Mom!" His voice carried pure, unfiltered happiness.
Amelia watched him go, her own eyes softening. She let the image settle, then closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. This time, she went deeper—straight into Ryan's memories.
She rewrote the past.
In the version she left behind, there had been no traffickers, no abduction. The day ended with laughter, not fear. She erased every trace of the original timeline—the kidnapping, the confinement, the killings, the desperate escape, the therapy, the medication, the self-harm. She stripped away the shadows from the roots, leaving only light.
When she finally exhaled, her chest felt hollow. Between healing Zander's wounds last night and altering Ryan's memories now, she'd burned through more soul energy than she could afford. Energy she had gathered from countless strangers' admiration during her rare public appearances.
And admiration, once spent, faded. To replenish it, she would need to find another way to win the crowd's favor.
An hour later, Ryan stirred from sleep. His eyes opened to a haze, but the emptiness that had once haunted them was gone. Clarity slowly replaced the fog.
He saw Amelia, then realized he was in Kevin's room. Confusion flickered across his face. "Little Cutie?" His voice rasped. He pushed himself upright, wincing at the ache in his body. "What happened? Wasn't there a party at home? How am I in Kevin's room?"
His mind was still anchored in the memory of last night's gathering.
After rewriting his memories, Amelia had texted Kevin, instructing him to have the house cleaned immediately. Now, nothing in Kevin's or Ryan's rooms hinted at the chaos that had been there.
Hearing him use that familiar nickname eased Amelia's tension. "Last night, the chandelier in the living room fell. It hit you, knocked you out cold. You've been sleeping ever since."
"The chandelier hit my head?" Ryan reached up, fingers brushing the swollen spot where he'd hit the wardrobe the night before. "No wonder it hurts… I feel like I can't remember much."
"Exactly. I worried you might have a concussion." Amelia touched his head lightly, her tone playful. "But even if you were knocked a little silly, with that face and body, you'd still have plenty of admirers."
Ryan laughed at her deadpan delivery, reaching over to muss her hair. "Are you really my sister? Can't you wish me something better?"
"I'm telling the truth—you're handsome. That's a fact." Amelia's eyes curved in a smile, as if nothing had happened at all.
She left him to rest and stepped out.
Kevin and Jenny had been waiting outside for over an hour, nerves wound tight. The moment she appeared, both straightened sharply.
Jenny moved first, closing the distance in quick strides. "Amelia, Ryan…?"
"He's fine now. And he won't relapse," Amelia said.
Jenny's pupils dilated, joy flooding in so fast she seemed afraid to trust it. "Really?! How?"
"I've learned a kind of psychological hypnosis. It can rewrite memories." Amelia's tone was calm, even. "I changed the memory of the day he was kidnapped. In his mind now, the day at the amusement park ended with him going home. No kidnapping, no confinement, no killings."
"Without those shadows, he won't remember the trafficker in the red dress. And without that trigger, he won't relapse."
Jenny's voice trembled. "You mean… he doesn't remember any of it now? He's… normal?"
"Ms. Jenkins," Amelia said quietly, "Ryan has always been normal. He was sick. Now he's well. From here on, he will be healthy and happy."
The words "healthy and happy" broke something in Jenny. Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. She gripped Amelia's hand, her voice breaking. "Thank you… thank you, Amelia. For saving Zander. For helping Ryan find the light again… You're a good girl. I was wrong about you."
It was the first time since Amelia had been brought back to the Martinez family that Jenny had spoken to her like this.
Something crossed Amelia's mind. "Wait here," she said, then turned and went back into the room.
Two minutes later, she returned with a worn envelope.
"Ms. Jenkins," she said, holding it out, "my mother gave me this before she died. She told me to deliver it to you when I came to River City. I've never opened it. I don't know what's inside. I never had the chance before—please take it now."
Jenny froze.
Rupert's letter?
Rupert—her husband's ex-wife. The woman who had seduced him in the countryside and secretly carried his child. The history between them was pure hostility.
If Rupert hadn't already been dead when Jenny learned the truth, she would have gone to the countryside herself to tear the truth out face-to-face.
And now, Rupert had written to her before dying… and sent the letter through her daughter?
Amelia had anticipated her shock. If Jenny's attitude hadn't shifted, she wouldn't have brought the letter out. In the past, Jenny would have ripped it apart the moment she heard Rupert's name.
Leaving the envelope in Jenny's hands, Amelia turned back toward her room. She needed to change before heading out to take care of something important.
When she stepped out of the Martinez mansion, she wore a loose black hoodie over light blue skinny jeans, plain canvas shoes on her feet. A baseball cap shadowed her face, black-rimmed glasses and a mask hiding most of her features. The beauty beneath was invisible now—her presence muted to nothing.
The taxi she'd booked in advance waited at the curb.
"You're here, miss—" The driver glanced back to confirm. "Your destination is Novagen Biomedical Research Institute, correct?"
Amelia adjusted her glasses, sitting upright in the back seat. "Yes."