Chapter 8: The Memory They Stole From Me
I stared at Sarah.
The room felt like it had stopped moving.
“No.””
My voice came out quieter than I expected.
“That’s impossible.””
Sarah didn’t react.
Ryan looked concerned.
“Emily, don’t listen to her.””
But Sarah stepped closer.
“Then explain the messages.””
I looked at my phone.
The unknown number.
The warnings.
The photographs.
The timing.
None of it made sense.
“You’re lying.””
Sarah sighed.
“I wanted to believe that too.””
She opened the folder again.
This time, she pulled out a medical report.
She placed it in front of me.
I didn’t touch it.
“What is that?””
“Your evaluation after Nightfall.””
My eyes narrowed.
“I never had one.””
“Yes, you did.””
“No.””
Sarah looked at Ryan.
He looked away.
That was the answer.
My chest tightened.
“You knew.””
Ryan’s voice was low.
“Yes.””
“How long?””
“Since the beginning.””
The betrayal hurt more than I wanted to admit.
I stepped away.
“You both knew something happened to me.””
Ryan moved closer.
“Emily.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You let me believe I was fine.””
Sarah interrupted.
“You weren’t fine.””
I looked at her.
“What happened?””
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she said:
“You forgot.””
The words were simple.
But they felt impossible.
“I forgot what?””
“Parts of Nightfall.””
I laughed once.
A humorless sound.
“I remember everything.””
“No.””
Sarah looked at me sadly.
“You remember what they wanted you to remember.””
The silence that followed was unbearable.
I looked at Ryan.
“Tell me she’s wrong.””
He didn’t answer.
I felt my anger rise.
“Tell me.””
Finally, he spoke.
“She’s not completely wrong.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
“What happened to me?””
Ryan looked at the floor.
“After the explosion, you were injured.””
“I know.””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“You were found three days later.””
I froze.
“That’s not true.””
“It is.””
“My report says—”
“Your report was changed.””
I stared at him.
Three days.
Three missing days.
Three days I had never questioned.
Because I remembered waking up in a hospital.
I remembered doctors.
I remembered pain.
But I never remembered how I got there.
Sarah continued.
“During those three days, someone accessed your memory files.””
I looked at her.
“Memory files?””
She nodded.
“You were exposed to information they couldn’t allow you to remember.””
“Who?””
Sarah looked at the folder.
“The same person who created Nightfall.””
The answer sent a chill through me.
I had spent six years searching for a traitor.
But what if the traitor wasn’t inside the team?
What if the entire mission was designed to fail?
My phone vibrated again.
All three of us looked at it.
A new message.
This time, there was a video.
I pressed play.
The screen showed a room.
A hospital room.
My hospital room.
My breath stopped.
The camera angle was from the corner.
Someone had been recording.
I watched myself lying unconscious.
Then someone entered.
A person wearing a military uniform.
They leaned over me.
The video quality was poor.
But I recognized the voice.
My stomach dropped.
Because the person said:
“She can’t remember what happened.””
A pause.
Then:
“But if she ever does…”
The screen went black.
I looked at Ryan.
“Who was that?””
Nobody answered.
I looked at Sarah.
Her face had gone pale.
“Sarah.””
She swallowed.
Then whispered:
“You need to see the rest.””
My phone received another file.
A second video.
I opened it.
This one started inside the Nightfall operation.
My team.
The mission.
The building.
But the camera angle was impossible.
It was from inside our own command system.
Someone had been watching us the entire time.
Then I heard my own voice.
Not the voice I remembered.
A voice filled with anger.
A voice I didn’t recognize.
“Everyone is compromised.””
The video showed me turning toward the team.
Toward Ryan.
Toward Sarah.
And then I said something that made my blood freeze.
“Don’t let me remember.””
The video ended.
I dropped the phone onto the table.
Because suddenly I understood the message.
*Do not trust the survivor.*
It wasn’t warning me about Ryan.
It wasn’t warning me about Sarah.
It was warning me about myself.
May you like
And the worst part was…
I had no idea what I had done.
