The room was cold and dark when Nina opened her eyes. A chill seeped into her very bones as she lay on the floor, staring blankly up at the off-white ceiling. Outside, the rain persisted, while the clock on the wall continued to tick away the minutes. Both remained unchanged. The same could not be said for Nina.

Something inside her felt different, yet one more piece of who she was—or who she thought she was—having broken off. Nina had picked up the pieces once. Put them back together until she was whole again, despite the cracks still visible to those who cared to look. She didn't think she could manage that a second time.

Not when he thought back to all that she'd learned the previous night. Crimson lips stretched in a mocking smile, and Nina had to push the thought away as she felt a surge of pain in her head.

Slowly, she sat up, her back aching almost as much as her head and her body feeling stiff from having spent so long lying on the floor. Dawn hadn't yet broken, cool moonlight filtering through the slim gap between the curtains, and Nina felt an odd sense of disorientation at not knowing just how late it was, or for how long she'd been lying on the worn carpet of the motel room.

That feeling grew stronger as her weary mind struggled to catch up with all that had happened. Ben's warning to her, the long drive without a destination, a familiar face that she'd never truly known—it all mixed into a muddled mess that Nina was caught in the midst of. And yet, the greatest detail Nina fought to understand was Nat. Or at least, the woman she'd thought Nat was.

The woman who Nina could still picture as a young girl, smiling brightly as she walked at Nina's side. A blue backpack rested on her shoulders with the small rabbit ornament Nina had gifted her months earlier dangling from it. Nina could still remember the way they'd head home together, both of the girls living on the same street.

She remembered snacking on apple slices and yogurt cups at a wide, wooden table in Nat's brightly lit kitchen. The way the sun would gleam off the pristine counters and the feel of the warm, summer breeze as it blew through the kitchen window, rustling the pages of printout that made up the girls' homework. Nina remembered it all, remembered the feeling of happiness—of acceptance—that came with having a friend like Nat.

Most of all, Nina remembered the day she thought she'd lost all of that. It was with perfect clarity that Nina could recall the way the sun's rays had seemed so feeble as they streamed through thick clouds in thin strips, breaking through the dullness of the day. She could see how the light bounced off the shards of glass scattered over the asphalt, like stars glimmering amidst a pitch black sky.

The scent of petrichor hung thickly in the air, water pooling all around her and the faint coolness of drizzle just starting to dot her skin. There were cries of help, of panic, of emotions Nina couldn't be bothered to identify at the time. Not when her own heart threatened to beat out of her own chest and a sense of dread mixed with horror rose inside of her. From the distance, there was the sound of sirens, the wailing sound seeming like a mournful cry to Nina's ears as it grew closer.

Amidst it all, was Nat, the only source of stillness in the chaos that surrounded them. Crimson stained her clothes, her face, and Nina was almost glad she couldn't see her friend's state from where she stood, shaking from more than the chill in the air.

And then, she was in a startlingly white waiting room. The stench of antiseptic Nina would someday come to detest was almost stifling as she sat next to her mother, who had an arm still wound tightly around her. Nina remembered the exhaustion, the dread, as she waited for news on her friend.

When she finally did see Nat again, much later, she was met with a pair of mismatched eyes. The smile on Nat's face was sharp as Nina stared into those eyes, gleaming a they stared at her, and the thought of them—the memory Nina had always thought belonged to her—was enough to make her shiver.

The memories were vivid, so much so that Nina could almost convince herself that they were true. That such a large part of her life wasn't a lie. She wished she were able to do that to herself. Nina wished she could believe the way that Fearnley did.

"I know who I am." The words Nina had repeated to herself not so long ago played over in her head, mocking her. Reminding her that she didn't know anything after all.

The thought nearly drew a bitter laugh from her. She remembered Fearnley, sitting in a cell with only the thought of the daughter he didn't have to serve as comfort and of the way she'd pitied a man living a lie.

"It's her birthday next week." Fearnley has confided in Nina with a broken tone.

"We don't have a daughter."

Nina felt ill, her stomach lurching as her breathing quickened, her eyes stinging all the while. The words flashed through her mind, endlessly repeating as she tried to retain some form of control. Her head pounded, sharp pains shooting through it as red lips and a mismatched gaze staring at her emerged from her ever shifting thoughts.

There was the laughter of a child, a small hand reaching for a doorknob. A warm voice called a dead woman's name. Spices and wood and the scent of lavender pervaded a hall with cream colored walls. A red smile flashed once more.

"I know who I am."

Nina let out a laugh. It was a broken thing, like the shattering of her mind, that turned to a sob carrying all the pain she'd bottled up inside of herself. All of the doubts that still haunted her mind had become too heavy a weight for her to keep carrying, and she crumbled beneath that burden, if only for that moment.

Her head was still pounding, the memories playing over and over too much of a strain. She wondered if that was how Fearnley would feel when he found out the truth and was glad she hadn't told him after all.

Maybe he'll never know, Nina thought. Maybe I'll just go mad.

That was what Nina felt was happening at that moment, her mind finally fracturing beyond repair. When she was finally able to gain some control over herself, her breaths calming even as her hands continued to shake, Nina felt exhausted—drained. More than that, there was a deep sense of hopelessness settling inside of her along with fear.

It was the fear that came from being uncertain of who she was, of who anyone in her life was. Nina couldn't trust her friends anymore, couldn't trust her own family if her memories could be so greatly altered. Most alarmingly, Nina knew that she couldn't trust herself anymore. Not when she wasn't sure that what she knew was the truth.

No, I'm not insane. I know who I am. And she knew that she was needed. Nina knew that there was a man in prison who had no one else to help him—to prove to the world that he was innocent. She knew that a woman had entrusted her with finding the truth before she'd died.

That was enough, at least for Nina. It would have to be enough.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and willed herself to regain enough control to keep going. There was nothing else she could do now, but to keep going, to keep looking for the answers that would hopefully put the whole thing to rest. When Nina opened her eyes, a long breath escaping through slightly parted lips, she found that her hands weren't shaking as badly. Some of the determination she'd always held so close to her, the drive that made her who she was and the only thing that had kept her going through the harshest points of her life, returned in full force.

Nina stood, legs shaky and body still aching, but she stood and looked around the dreary motel room. The television was still on, something Nina hadn't noticed until then. A news anchor spoke with a serious tone and tired eyes about things that Nina couldn't find it in herself to care about in that moment.

Her notes, along with Fearnley's medical records, were still strewn across the small desk while the chair she'd been sitting on rested on it's side on the old carpet. Like it had the night before, Nina's laptop sat atop the desk, screen still displaying the smiling faces of those who worked at SEIN. Nina didn't dare look at it, not ready to face those mismatched eyes staring back at her. The revelation from earlier was still too fresh in her mind. More importantly, Nina wasn't going to allow herself to break down. Not again.

There were still things Nina wanted to do, and she would need to hold on to her sanity for a while longer for that. She rubbed at her eyes, which ached from both staring at pages upon pages of names and faces on a computer screen and the tears that Nina hadn't been able to hold back.

After a quick glance up at the clock, and one longing look at the as of yet untouched bed, Nina decided that whatever little sleep she could get would do her good. She was tired, both physically and mentally. Nina doubted she would last much longer if she didn't get some rest. Besides, she didn't know what to do. Not when she was so uncertain of so many things.

Against Nina's best efforts, her thoughts travelled back to the smiling face of the woman she'd thought was her friend. Her head twinged in pain once more.

Because my memories of Nat aren't real, she realized, thinking back to her last conversation with Fearnley. He'd mentioned headaches when he thought back to the night of Alice's murder. Nina was now certain it was because Fearnley's fragmented mind was trying to push aside the lies to reveal the truth hidden behind them.

For a minute, Nina thought about righting the chair at her side and taking a seat in front of the desk once again. She considered looking through her notes and searching for any other clues pointing to fabricated memories. Nina wanted to search her own mind, purge it of anything that could be false at the same time that she looked for any more lies that could have been fed to Fearnley.

No, I need to rest, she told herself. It was something that those who'd mentored her during the earlier days of her career had made clear to her—to rest when she could. With that in mind, Nina dug through her bad for more pain medication, hoping that would be enough to quell the ache in her head.

She didn't bother to change as she finally climbed under the multi colored covers of the bed not much later. Nina didn't find it so hard to fall into a light sleep. The day had been long. The morning when she'd first heard her phone ring, Ben's voice sounding anxious, seemed like something from a lifetime ago.

The ticking of the clock on the wall was almost hypnotic, the small sound seeming louder in the stillness of the room. It echoed inside Nina's head as she tried to find some rest, fading into a distant thing as Nina's breathing evened out.

That sound persisted, turning into the clicking of shoes on hardwood floors. It was a steady and familiar rhythm, as were the cream colored walls and the soft music playing from some unknown source. The scents of wet earth and damp wood filled the hall, familiar smells that made Nina think of home. That made her think of safety as a sense of fondness that she couldn't quite determine the origins of, rose up inside of her.

Her steps continued, steady and sharp as she walked farther down the hall. A single frame waited near the end, growing ever closer, gleaming even in the soft lighting. Nina's gaze was fixed upon it as she walked ever closer.

Three steps away.

The hall began to spin, Nina's head twinged with pain as she lost her balance. The world turned upside down and a sense of foreboding swelled up like a wave inside of Nina. She glanced up, the hall twisting and the frame just within reach.

Two steps away.

Her steps faltered, and then the hall was gone as were the scents of wood and earth. Instead, they were replaced by the harsh stench of disinfectant and blindingly white lights along a pristine hall. Panic coiled around her heart as the realization of where it was that she stood hit her. Nina took one fearful step back and suddenly, she was falling. Darkness wrapped around her, the rush of air vivid enough that she nearly screamed. She shut her eyes, and then she was standing on solid ground.

Once more, there was the smell of earth and wood and soft notes ringing out around her. Nina let out a shaky breath, and slowly opened her eyes, expecting the warm light and cream colored walls that had once been so unsettling to her.

She opened her eyes, and had to fight back a scream.

A mirror framed in silver hung before Nina, gleaming and spotless. No green gaze was found in it. Instead, it was a pair of mismatched eyes that stared back, sharp and colder than Nina had ever thought they could be. Lips painted a vivid crimson tone stretched out into a mocking smile and Nina felt her heart shatter once again.

Nina awoke with a scream fighting it's way out even as she pushed it back. Her heart pounded in her chest, as fast as the beating of the rain as it pelted the world lying just outside the still dark motel room she was in. Her hands shook and a sharp pain stabbed through her head as she sat up, still feeling exhausted. The clock on the wall kept ticking on steadily. Nina closed her eyes and focused on the sound, doing her best to match her breathing to it, to steady the wild beating of her heart.

The weak light of dawn slipped into her room through the slim gap between the curtains. It was time for her to leave.

Nina packed what little belongings she had with her, not taking more than ten minutes to do so. Soon after, she found herself in her car, pulling out of the parking lot of the motel. Despite her having spent only a short time there, Nina felt like that was a place she would always carry with her. The things she'd found in that room were the kind that were impossible to forget.

The rain from the previous day persisted in the form of a light drizzle that fell from dreary skies and dotted the windshield of Nina's car. All the while, there was a chill hanging around that made Nina's fingers stiffen from the cold. It was a relief when the car became warm enough to make Nina feel more awake.

After all, the desolate road before her wasn't making that any easier. It was quiet, with Nina only passing other vehicles occasionally. A sense of isolation, one that Nina had been struggling against since the previous day, took a hold of her. Once more, she found her mind wandering to her friends, to her family—to those she thought she knew but could no longer be certain.

No, not everything is a lie. It can't be, Nina told herself, and surprised herself with how desperate the thought was. With how much she wanted to believe it.

She pressed her mind to find something, anything, that could prove her whole life wasn't a lie. A simple sign that when it was all over, Nina wouldn't find herself with no one to turn to. That all of the people in her life wouldn't slowly fade from it. Once again, Nina thought of Fearnley, only now she wished she'd also been left in the dark about what had been done to her.

But this is what I wanted, she thought. It's what I was looking for. The truth.

Nina didn't like thinking that way. She didn't like turning something she'd always valued so much into a thing to be feared. For a second, Nina wondered what Iris would think of her supposedly fearless friend shaking at the thought of what more she could learn. The thought passed quickly, only to be replaced by the terrifying idea that maybe Iris wouldn't care—that maybe she, like Nat, wasn't the person Nina thought she was.

The thought hurt. More so than Nina had expected after she'd done her best to resign herself to the thought that the people she knew could all be lies placed inside her mind.

But why? Nina asked herself. Was it to keep an eye on me? Nat works for SEIN, if memories of her were planted among my own then there was a reason for it, a good one. Could they have known that Alice implanted her memories inside my mind too?

It was possible, after all, Alice had treated Nina for some time and it was clear that they'd done something to Fearnley's mind too. If Alice knew something she wasn't supposed to, it made sense they would keep an eye on her. Nina didn't think it was hard to believe that they would also be watching Alice's patients so closely. She just hadn't considered them planting memories in her mind to place a spy near her.

The admission of what Nat truly was pained her, but Nina knew it was something she had to accept. It was a fact that sank slowly into her mind, the memories she once thought were her own stirring as the image she'd had of her supposed friend faded and was replaced with cold, mismatched eyes and a mocking smile that had once seemed warm.

Nina shivered, despite the warmth inside the car. She turned on the radio, attempting to find a way to keep herself from dwelling in thoughts that would only muddle things up. If anything, Nina needed a clear mind, with everything going on around her at that moment.

". . . expect some more storming near . . ."

". . . backed up due to a crash . . ."

Nina switched through all the morning news and updates. She tried to tell herself it had nothing to do with her newfound fear of hearing her own name being mentioned.

The cops only wanted to question me. Ben said so, she reminded herself, knowing all too well that what she was accused of would lead to more than just a simple bit of questioning.

It was why she had run.

Nina settled on a station playing some catchy pop song, one that was in about a hundred commercials, but Nina still didn't know the lyrics to. It was good enough to distract her and chase away the lonely feeling that came with driving down such a quiet road for so long.

The sound of rain beating against the windshield was a constant, even as the songs changed and the early morning crept closer towards the afternoon. It was nearly noon when Nina stopped at a gas station. Her stomach was painfully empty and her car was in a similar state. Two other cars were parked off to the side while a large truck filled up. Nina felt surprisingly glad to see other people, like a reminder that she wasn't alone in the world. She supposed that was what happened when loneliness and paranoia mixed together.

Nina walked into the gas station and headed straight towards the coffee, buying the largest cup available along with some packaged bread and a couple granola bars. She figured that would hold her up until she found her way to a town where she could get a hot meal. As she walked to the register, she passed a couple of prepaid phones, the kind she hadn't seen anyone use in a good while. Idly, Nina wondered how long they'd been there, hanging off a rack at an old gas station.

For a second, Nina stared at the blister packs of prepaid phones, hesitating for a moment before picking one up. She ignored the odd stare the woman at the register gave her when she picked up the phone as Nina paid. It probably wasn't often that someone bought one of the things, judging by the amount of dust that had gathered onto it, turning the clear plastic opaque. Nina was just glad she didn't say anything, just took her money and handed her back a short, half faded receipt along with a few coins. She could still feel the woman's stare as she walked out of the stuffy shop, the cold wind feeling like an improvement.

Nina headed to her car, her shoes clacking in a quick beat as she walked. The rain had stopped for a while, a few weak rays of sunshine streaming through the dark clouds overhead. Even so, there was a sense of gloom that would not dispel throughout the day.

To keep her mind off of it, Nina dug through the paper bag containing her purchases. She pushed away the food and pulled out the plastic pack with the phone she'd bought. It was a black, bulky looking thing. Something from an era long past. For the first time, Nina wondered if the thing would even work, and realized she should have thought of that first.

Too late for that now, she told herself, already looking for something to open the pack with.

It was after a short struggle that Nina managed to pry open the pack and pull out the phone. Her fingers slid against flimsy feeling plastic and she second guessed the impulsive purchase.

It might come in handy. That was the only thing she could tell herself to justify it. Anything else might just remind her of how much she wanted to hear a familiar voice.

Deciding it was better to not dwell on those thoughts at the moment, Nina began charging the phone while she ate the bagged bread she'd bought. The scent of coffee had permeated every corner of the car, something that gave the small space a feel of home.

There was still half a cup of the warm drink left when she pulled out of the gas station. The rain had still failed to return and the streaks of sunlight painted bright spots onto the dark asphalt. As Nina stared out through the windshield, the road stretching out farther than she could see, she could almost convince herself that things would work out. That she would get through it all.

- - - - - - - - - 

Hello everyone! Here's another chapter that I hope you all like. Next one will be up on Friday, so keep an eye out for that. As always, thank you all for reading and please vote and/or comment if you can. Have a great weekend!