We held each other on the shore until the sun hiding, forced us to return to reality.

On our way back, even the silliest things made us laugh. Heather kept daring me to do stupid things; seeing who could jump faster over a random log, or who could hold out the longest while carrying the other on their back. It felt as though we were on vacation in a different dimension where problems and walls didn't exist.

I did my best in the contest and carried her for as long as I could. Meanwhile, she hugged me from behind, some of her wavy strands falling softly around my cheeks. Despite my efforts, I eventually grew tired and let her take over, but not before she gave me a smile of satisfaction and confidence.

"I'm totally going to win this." She said, her gaze fixed ahead as she gripped my legs tightly.

"Oh, is that so?" I murmured, placing a tender, lingering kiss on her neck from behind.

"Don't think your sweet kisses will distract me. I'm not falling for that." She teased, though I noticed a shiver run through her.

'Let's see how you handle this,' I said, reaching around to tickle her sides. She started to wiggle.

"Stop it, you goofball!" She protested, though her steps were unsteady, betraying her laughter.

"What did you just call me? I won't stop now." I said, intensifying the tickling.

Heather tried to resist, but it was clear that laughter was winning the battle. I felt her grip on me starting to weaken. Suddenly, a stray piece of wood caught her foot, and she stumbled. We tripped three times before both tumbling into the grass, still laughing.

"Ok, I can't take this anymore!" She said catching her breath on the grass.

"I never said it was over once we hit the floor." I said with a grin, jumping on her and continuing to tickle.

"Oh. My." She gasped as she rolled to avoid me, but it was too late. I caught her.

"That's what you get for being so insufferably competitive." I said.

"Okay, okay, you win!" she shouted.

I finally stopped and pulled my hands away, letting her catch her breath. I lay down beside her with a wide grin on my face.

"Are you content now?" She asked with a smirk.

"Not quite." I said, leaning in to capture her lips with mine, those lips I couldn't get enough of.

· · ·

The night before the meeting, we finally got to sleep in real beds. After thoes weeks in a cell, sinking into a soft mattress felt like hitting the jackpot. Michael had left us a room in the Phoenix Group's common house, which wasn't very big, but more than enough compared with that smelly cell. Two single beds fit perfectly, one on each side, separated by a worn wooden nightstand. Michael and the other soldiers were sleeping in the other ten rooms of the house.

Heather fell asleep quickly, as usual, while I, well, you know, sleep was never my strong suit, so I stayed awake. The process of not sleeping was always the same. First, I'd drift into a light sleep, and for a few moments, it would feel like I might finally manage to fall asleep. But then my heart would start pounding like frantic drums. Cold sweat, like ice, would trickle down my neck and back, from behind my ears and the tips of my fingers, spreading an uncomfortable tingling. Then, like the swift slash of a katana, sharp images would invade my mind. The smoke from the drones the day my parents died, Michael's screams when we were separated at the border, the gunshot hitting Heather, and her blood gushing through her fingers as she tried to cover the wound. And then, suffocation. Drowning. Constriction.

I shot out of bed, agitated. Enough, I told myself. Why did I have to keep suffering these attacks after all this time? It wasn't fair. They made me feel like I had no control over anything as if I were losing more of it with each passing year. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took a few deep breaths to calm down. My heart was still racing. Maybe a walk would clear my mind.

I checked on Heather. She was snuggled in the blanket with pink cheeks, breathing softly, looking incredibly cute. I gently moved a strand of hair from her face and kissed her cheek. As I turned to leave, a whisper stopped me.

"Where are you going?"

I turned around. Heather's eyes were half-open, looking at me with a soft frown.

"I can't sleep. Just wanted to wander a bit." I said.

Heather shook her head and partially removed the blanket, inviting me to join her. "Come here."

"I don't want to bother you." I said.

"Come." She repeated, patting the space beside her.

I joined her and lay down beside her. She turned to me and raised an arm to pull me close, my head resting on her chest. Then she hugged me protectively.

"I've got you." She whispered. "I'm with you."

And as if those words were a spell, my body relaxed and melted on her, as if I dissolved in her arms. Those strong yet gentle arms made me feel that nothing could go wrong. Their warmth and scent were like a protective shield enveloping me. I had never had certainty about anything in my life, but that night I can say one thing was clear: There was no other place in the world where I would rather be than in Heather's arms.

Unfortunately, that pleasant sensation evaporated at some point during the night.

A creak.

A tug.

A choked cry.

I opened my eyes, confused. It was still dark.

Muffled grunts.

Harsh whispers.

The thud of something colliding.

"Grace!" It was Heather's voice.

Was that real? My eyes rushed to the source of the sound. I couldn't believe what I saw. A shiver ran through my body. At the frame of the door, a silhouette, its face shielded under a dark scarf, wielded a jackknife trying to stab Heather, who was pressed against the wall, blocking the stranger with all her strength. What the hell was happening?

I jumped from the bed and ran to the attacker still trying to puzzle the situation. I trapped his neck in my arm from behind. The attacker grunted and threw his elbow back, hitting me in the stomach. A surge of pain coursed through my insides, and I fell to the floor, coughing.

"Grace!" Heather shouted. "I'm gonna kill you, bastard!" Heather said furiously.

She sent a blow with her fist to his face, but he dodged it and then grabbed Heather by the neck. Like a lightning bolt, I jumped up from the floor and kicked him in the back. The guy fell to the ground, along with Heather, who was semi-conscious due to the loss of air.

The knife had slipped to the side, lying as close to the attacker as to me. We both looked at each other and ran for it. Shit. He was faster. He grabbed it and, as he raised it, it grazed my face. A clean cut sliced through my right cheek, and a spurt of blood shot through the air. Fuck, it stung. Luckily, I slid back at the last moment, so the cut was superficial. I covered my aching cheek with my hand as he lunged at Heather.

 He lifted her shirt and saw the metal plaque she had on her ribs. What the hell was he doing? Then he raised the knife to stab her. Shit. I wouldn't make it in time. The attacker's arm came down at full speed toward her, but at that instant, just before the knife stabbed her skin, a hand stopped him. Michael's hand. Thank God. With a firm blow to the back, he threw the attacker to the ground.

I ran to Heather and helped her stand and get away from the attacker. Her eyes were like a flame of hatred and anger, but she was also somewhat scared, and so was I. What the hell had happened? In the middle of the night, someone had tried to kill her?

Michael kicked the attacker's hand, and his knife flew to the other side of the room. Then he sat on top of him and, without hesitation, punched him. The attacker groaned in pain.

"Let's see who is behind this." Michael removed his scarf revealing his face behind.

I couldn't believe it.

"How could you?" Michael said with hate in every single syllable.

Under the scarf, the person who had tried to kill Heather was Ryan, Michael's right-hand soldier. A bunch of other soldiers peeked through the doorframe, eager to find out what had happened.

"Take him." Michael ordered.

Ryan disappeared into the crowd of soldiers grabbing him as he shouted, "The Reg Society is our salvation!"

· · ·

Luckily, Heather was fine; she might end up with a few bruises from the struggle, but she was alive. I, on the other hand, had a gash running across my entire right cheek. Michael had brought a first-aid kit full of medicines to clean and treat the cut on my face, while Heather stayed by my side, not leaving me for a moment.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault." Michael said, handing me a cotton ball soaked with alcohol.

"What the hell happened?" I asked.

Michael remained silent for a moment. Heather was also very quiet.

"I though I knew Ryan. He's been part of the Phoenix group for years. I can't understand... but he was loyal to the Reg Society." He said.

I finished with the cotton ball and set it on the table while Heather inspected the wound. "I get that, but why did he try to kill Heather?" I asked.

Michael's gaze fell, his eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding mine. The silence stretched.

"Michael, speak." I insisted.

Heather stepped forward, her gaze fixed on him. "It's because of this, isn't it?" she said, pulling up her shirt to reveal the metal plaque on her ribs.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Michael remained silent.

Heather continued, "Ryan checked to see if I had this thing." She pointed to the metal plaque on her ribs. "He needed to know, and then he wanted to kill me."

I turned to Michael. "But why? I don't understand!"

Heather pressed on. "It's not just a regular implant, is it, Michael?"

Michael's eyes shimmered with regret. "I'm so sorry." He said, looking at Heather. Sorry? I wondered.

"I planned to tell you everything at tomorrow's meeting, but with what's happened... We can't trust anyone anymore, and we're running out of time." Michael said.

"Tell us now." I said my tone demanding. 

He closed the first-aid kit, took a deep breath, and finally said, "Heather, this plaque isn't just a regular implant. It holds very important information."

"What kind of information?" Heather asked, her voice trembling.

Michael's gaze dropped again, and he blinked rapidly as if trying to shield himself from the gravity of what he was about to reveal.

"Tell me the truth, Michael." Heather said, taking a small step toward him.

"I'm so sorry..." he repeated, his eyes glistening. "I can't..." His voice cracked, and he looked on the verge of breaking down. Meanwhile, Heather seemed like a ticking time bomb, her fists clenched and her lips pressed into a tight line. She needed answers and she needed them now.

"Come on!" Heather yelled. 

"No." Michael said, but his voice was trembling. 

Heather lunged forward and grabbed Michael by the shirt, with a fierce grip. "Michael. Tell. Me. The. Truth." Her eyes blazed with intensity.

"Hey, hey, calm down!" I said, reaching for Heather's iron grip on Michael's shirt. But she wouldn't let go. Michael remained silent, struggling to find his words.

Heather shouted, "Tell me or I swear I'll burn your whole town down. What information?!"

"Your memories!" Michael gasped. 

My blood ran cold. Michael's words echoed in my mind as I turned to Heather. Her eyes were shadowed, her face pale and fragile, as if she might shatter at any moment. Slowly, she loosened her grip, and Michael was finally freed.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Michael's gaze stayed locked on Heather. "You told me you grew up in a sanctuary, that you were left there as a baby, right?"

"Yes." Heather replied firmly.

"Well, that's not true. You don't remember because... you can't remember." Michael said.

Confusion spread across Heather's face. Michael continued, "They made you go through a reset procedure to erase the first years of your life."

Heather's face went ashen, her eyes widening with horror. She staggered back, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Michael pressed on, "They told you you'd been in the sanctuary since you were a baby, but that's a lie."

"But who would do that and why?" I asked, trying to make sense of the chaos.

Michael sat on a nearby chair and gestured for us to do the same. 

"The person who put that plaque there was... your mother. She hid the truth in you," Michael said. "That plaque contains..." A pause. "Your past."

Heather's hands trembled as she gripped the edge of the table. "It's not possible." She mumbled.

"What truth?" I asked, still trying to make sense of it all.

"Your mother was one of the devs that work for the Orb," Michael said. "She discovered its true purpose and tried to stop it, but she wasn't listened to. So she created an algorithm to end it. However..." Michael trailed off.

"She was discovered and killed." Heather finished.

Michael nodded. "But she managed to hide the algorithm in your memories. The ones they think they erased."

Heather's eyes fluttered nervously, and her hands started to shake. She seemed to radiate a dark, almost tangible tension as if she might transform into a creature of fear and fury at any moment. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and gave it a firm squeeze, I wanted her to know I was there, that I wasn't going to let her face the storm brewing inside her alone.

"We need you to recover those memories," Michael said. "You're the only one who can help us stop the Orb."

Heather pulled her hand away from me violently. "You're lying." She took a step back, her breathing rapid and uneven.

"It's not a lie." Michael insisted.

"It has to be." Heather said, her voice breaking.

"It's not! And you are our only option," Michael said raising his voice. "Don't you want to remember your mother?"

Heather went silent, her eyes downcast.

I intervened. "But how do you plan to make her recover her memories?" I asked. "Is that even possible?"

Michael's gaze was filled with pain, and with each question we asked, he responded with a slow blink of sympathy and a sigh of distress.

"Well, as I said, the implant she has is not a regular one. It will only activate... inside the Orb. Once there, you'll recover your memories, and at the same time, we'll put an end to it."

Heather's face paled further, her eyes widening in shock. "Inside the Orb?" She echoed as if trying to grasp the full implication of what Michael was saying.

"Yes," Michael confirmed. "The Orb's environment will trigger the activation of the algorithm."

Heather's breathing quickened, looking overwhelmed. She took a step back, her hands trembling.

"And you expect me to just walk into the heart of the Nexus Court and hope that this plaque works? How do you know all of that?"

"I know because you mother told me." He said.

Heather's eyes widened in surprise, and her entire body tensed. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could almost hear the others' heartbeats echoing in the silence.

"But if she was killed... how could she have told you?" I asked, confused.

"She left a record with a message. I can show it to you."

"No," Heather said, looking down. "If she wanted to protect me so much, she shouldn't have gotten involved in all that and then just abandoned me."

Wow. Now Heather's pain was speaking for her. The pain she had never acknowledged but was always visible, the pain of feeling rootless.

"But she trusted you!" Michael said raising his voice. "Your mother's work and your memories are our only hope!"

"I don't care." Heather said.

"How can you say that? Michael said. "They killed your origins, don't you want revenge? They made you forget your best memories. Don't you want them back?"

"Michael, stop!" I said, stepping forward as Heather seemed ready to erupt.

"Hey, look at me," I said gently to Heather. "You don't have to make any decisions right now. We'll figure this out together. I'm with you."

Heather glanced briefly at me, but her eyes were distant.

"I need time. I'm sorry." Heather said, turning and heading for the door. She slammed it behind her, the sound echoing through the house.

"Wait!" I ran after her, but by the time I reached outside, she had already vanished into the darkness of the night.

Author's Note: 

Hey there!😘

I have a question while writing this chapter. If you had forgotten a part of your past involving the murder of someone you loved, would you prefer not remembering the person or recovering the memories along with the pain of that loss?

Thanks for your time and thoughts! I'd love to read them!💖

Ava💫