Chapter 10 - Elena couldn't hear the rain anymore.Everything became distant.
“You're lying.”
Isabella shook her head.
“You remember.”
“I don't.”
“Because they made sure you wouldn't.”
Dante stepped toward Isabella.
“Enough.”
She looked at him.
“You know I'm telling the truth.”
Dante said nothing.
Elena turned.
“You knew.”
His silence answered.
She backed away.
“How much?”
“I knew Claire was killed in front of you.”
“You knew?”
“I didn't know you witnessed it.”
“You're lying again.”
“Elena…”
“Did my mother die in my arms?”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Her knees weakened.
Dante caught her.
She pushed him away.
“No.”
Memories came.
A dark road.
Rain.
Headlights.
Her mother's voice.
A hand on her shoulder.
A man standing beside the car.
A red tie.
A ring.
Then a gunshot.
Elena screamed.
“I remember.”
Dante caught her again.
She shook uncontrollably.
“My mother…”
Isabella's voice softened.
“That's why Claire erased parts of your memory.”
“What?”
“She wasn't trying to hide the archive from you.”
“She was trying to keep it from them.”
Julian appeared on the roof.
Blood soaked his sleeve.
He held a folder.
“I found this.”
Elena turned.
Inside were medical records.
Her childhood.
Psychological evaluations.
A procedure.
TRAUMATIC MEMORY SUPPRESSION THERAPY
Doctor's name:
Dr. Adrian Vale.
Dante looked at it.
“He died years ago.”
Julian shook his head.
“No.”
He showed another document.
A recent payment.
ADRIAN VALE MEDICAL GROUP
Elena stared.
“He's alive.”
A helicopter spotlight suddenly swept across the roof.
Harold's men appeared at the opposite entrance.
“Get her!”
Dante pulled Elena toward the helicopter.
Isabella fired.
The attackers retreated.
For one second Elena saw her clearly.
Isabella was protecting her.
Not attacking.
The helicopter lifted.
Dante pulled Elena inside.
Julian climbed in after them.
“Where are we going?”
Dante answered:
“To the Vale clinic.”
Elena stared.
“What happens there?”
“We find out what they did to your memory.”
The helicopter disappeared into the storm.
Two hours later, the Vale Medical Center stood abandoned on the edge of the city.
Dante forced open the main door.
Inside, dusty computers remained.
Old patient rooms.
Medical equipment.
Elena's name appeared on a file cabinet.
PATIENT 0047.
Her hands shook.
She opened the file.
Photographs.
Medical notes.
And one sentence written by hand.
THE SUBJECT REMEMBERS THE MAN WHO FIRED THE GUN.
Elena whispered:
“Who?”
Dante stared at the page.
The answer was circled.
DANTE MORETTI.
She looked up.
The world seemed to stop.
“You.”
Dante didn't move.
“No.”
“The file says your name.”
“It was false.”
“Why would my memory say you killed her?”
“I don't know.”
Julian picked up another file.
“Wait.”
He found a second note.
Written by Claire.
If Elena remembers Dante holding the gun, she must not trust what she sees.
Elena stared.
“Why?”
Claire's handwriting continued.
Because the man beside Dante was wearing his coat.
A photograph fell from the file.
A man stood beside Dante on the night Claire died.
Black suit.
Red tie.
Face hidden in shadow.
Elena stared at the ring on his hand.
A distinctive silver signet.
Mercer family crest.
Julian whispered:
“My father.”
Then the clinic lights came on.
Every screen activated at once.
A live video appeared.
May you like
Harold Mercer.
“You finally came home.”
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