Chapter 29: CH-29

Nathan’s POV

“How can anyone not identify the sixth server? Was he some kind of ghost or something?” I ranted, pacing around the room like a caged animal.

Even as the words spilled out, I knew I was losing it. But how could I not?

It had been over twenty-four hours since Amelia pointed out the mysterious sixth server in that photo, and we were no closer to figuring out who he was.

The one solid lead I had—the only thread connecting me to whoever was behind this nightmare—was slipping through my fingers.

Amelia sat quietly across from me, barely saying a word since Lucas left for work and to check on his family.

It still surprised me to learn that my supposed best friend had two daughters.

“In fact, they’re very fond of you,” Lucas had said when he noticed the shock on my face. Fond of me? How could anyone be fond of someone who couldn’t even remember them?

Doctor Friggard, propped up on the couch, seemed to sense my frustration. “Calm down, Nathan. This is one step at a time. I’m not surprised you can’t identify the sixth server. Whoever orchestrated this has resources—and they’ve gone to great lengths to cover their tracks.”

“That wasn’t reassuring,” I muttered under my breath. All I wanted was for this chaos to end.

Instead, I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, unable to grasp anything solid about who I used to be. My gaze shifted to Amelia.

Today, she wore black jeans and a casual shirt that screamed practicality. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of an office meeting.

“Have you discovered anything?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

She jumped slightly, startled by my question. “Uhm… no. I’ve run his face through every facial recognition app I know, but so far, nothing’s turned up. From his features, though, we can tell he’s European, probably in his early forties or mid-thirties. That’s not much, but it’s something to start from.”

I wondered again why she seemed so scared of me. Maybe it was because I was acting like a ticking time bomb. Before I could dwell on it further, she spoke softly, almost to herself. “I should go back home; they must be wondering where I’ve been.”

My frustration boiled over. Did she really think walking away would solve anything? “Really? And you’re just going to leave me here?”

For the first time, she met my eyes directly. Her voice was calm but firm. “What do you mean alone? Doctor Friggard is here.”

“Doctor Friggard, who’s so weak he can barely move a shoulder!” I snapped, throwing my hands into the air.

“Nathan, calm down,” Doctor Friggard interjected gently.

“Don’t ask me to calm down!” I shouted, pacing faster now. “I’ve just been shot at multiple times, putting everyone in danger. You have no idea what it’s like to wake up in a body you don’t recognize, living someone else’s life.” I ran my hands through my hair, feeling the weight of everything crash down on me.

I didn’t notice Amelia glancing at me, her eyes lingering longer than usual.

I was wearing a pair of shorts and a blue shirt that hugged my abs, but I wasn’t thinking about appearances right now.

“No, we don’t know what it’s like,” Doctor Friggard admitted. “That’s why we’re doing everything we can to make progress. I made a few calls earlier. One of my old colleagues—a doctor I worked with during the experimental drug trials—promised to come here soon. He’ll help discreetly.”

The news hit me like a drop of rain after days of scorching heat. For the first time in hours, I forced myself to take a deep breath. “Thank you, Doctor Friggard.”

Amelia stood abruptly, gathering the coffee cups we’d used. “I’ll wash these in the kitchen sink.” Without another word, she walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I realized then that I owed her an apology. If this was how I treated people, it was no wonder she avoided me like the plague.

I followed her into the kitchen, watching silently as she rinsed the cups. Even her movements were graceful, deliberate. “I’m sorry,” I began awkwardly. Apologizing wasn’t something I did often—or at least, that’s what I suspected based on the way guilt clawed at me now. “I lost it back there.”

She turned to face me, her expression softening slightly. “It’s alright. I guess I’m used to it by now.”

Her honesty stung, but it also intrigued me. “I must have been a horrible person,” I said slowly, gauging her reaction. “It’s obvious to everyone how uncomfortable you are around me.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Horrible is an understatement.”

To my surprise, I chuckled. There was wit behind those guarded eyes, and for a moment, I forgot the tension between us. She smiled back briefly, and something inside me shifted. If I hadn’t dated her in the five years she’d worked for me, then I was definitely a fool.

“Can I help?” I asked, stepping closer. Truthfully, I didn’t care about the dishes—it was just an excuse to be near her.

“No, you can’t, because I just finished doing it,” she replied, grinning as she dried her hands on a towel. “My family will be worried. I need to get back. We’ll continue working on this when I return.”

I took a step back, giving her space. “Alright, see you later.” As she walked away, I found myself missing her already.

AMELIA'S POV

I stepped out of the house, my mind tangled around this new version of Nathan Delanza.

This side of him was unfamiliar, almost jarring, and it shook me more than I cared to admit.

Maybe he really wasn’t as awful as I’d painted him to be. The thought sat heavy in my chest, dragging up a sharp regret for the part I’d played.

But what would Nathan do if he found out? Would he believe I had nothing to do with the worst of it, or would he lump me in with the rest of them?

I had only agreed to something small, something mild—at least that’s what I told myself. They were the ones who pushed it further, who struck at him in ways that could ruin him completely.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I let out a heavy sigh. I was walking on pins and needles around him, praying every day he wouldn’t discover the truth.

My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone and flicked through my call logs. Two missed calls from Mom. She’d left me a voicemail.

“Hey Ames, how are you? I called you earlier, twice. I just wanted to check up on you.” Her voice cracked in that familiar way. “I just wish you would talk to me, you know. I’m your mother, and I’ll always be. Whatever you’re going through, we’ll go through it together. Anyway, the boys say hello. They’ve been missing you badly. Oh, and I forgot to say, someone came around asking for you. Detective, Conrad, Conan, or something. Bye.”

My pulse spiked. Detective Conan?

Why the hell was a detective looking for me?

A faint rustle snapped me back. Movement—in my backseat.

“Be quiet,” a voice ordered, low and steady. My blood froze.

“My name is Detective Conan, and I just want to talk.”