My father was standing beside Victor.
I couldn’t move.
The memory felt real.
Too real.
Rain struck the windows of our old house.
Six years ago.
I was thirteen again.
Small.
Confused.
Afraid.
Victor stood near the front door.
My father stood beside him.
And Adrian was holding my hand.
I looked at the memory of my father.
—Why?
The younger version of me whispered the question.
My father looked at me.
—Because this is the only way.
Victor glanced toward him.
—She needs to forget.
My father’s face tightened.
—Not everything.
—Everything she saw.
My father shook his head.
—She can’t remember you.
Victor looked at me.
—Or me.
Then someone entered the room.
My mother.
She looked terrified.
—Daniel, we have to go.
My father turned.
—Take Sophia.
My mother looked at him.
—What about you?
He looked toward Victor.
—I’ll stay.
My heart stopped.
The memory changed.
Suddenly, Adrian was pulling me toward the hallway.
—Come on.
I resisted.
—I don’t want to leave Dad.
—You have to.
—Why?
Adrian looked at me.
His younger face was full of fear.
—Because your father told me to get you somewhere safe.
Then the memory flickered.
Victor was talking to my father.
—If she remembers, they’ll come.
My father answered: —They already know.
Victor looked toward the hallway.
—Then it’s too late.
My father’s expression changed.
—No.
He reached into his coat.
He pulled out the silver key.
My younger self gasped.
I recognized it.
The same key I had been carrying in my memories.
Victor reached for it.
My father stopped him.
—Not yet.
—Daniel.
—She has to choose.
Victor looked at him.
—She’s thirteen.
My father looked toward me.
—But she already chose once.
The memory blurred.
I heard my younger voice.
—I’m not afraid.
My father’s eyes filled with tears.
—You should be.
Then the memory shattered.
I opened my eyes.
I was back in the chamber.
Adrian was beside me.
—Sophia?
I couldn’t answer.
The girl who looked like me was still standing across the room.
She watched me carefully.
—Now you understand.
I shook my head.
—No.
She tilted her head.
—What don’t you understand?
—My father wasn’t betraying us.
The girl smiled.
—Not that night.
I froze.
—What does that mean?
She stepped closer.
—Your father did something worse.
Adrian moved between us.
—Stop talking in riddles.
The girl looked at him.
—You really don’t remember anything, do you?
Adrian’s expression hardened.
—Remember what?
She pointed at me.
—Ask her.
I looked at my hands.
—What did I do?
The girl answered quietly: —You opened the door.
I remembered.
The hallway.
The rain.
The silver key.
My hand on the door.
Someone outside.
I whispered: —I thought I was letting Adrian in.
The girl nodded.
—You were.
Adrian stared at her.
—What?
She looked at him.
—You were outside.
He shook his head.
—I don’t remember.
—Of course you don’t.
She turned toward me.
—Because you never made it inside.
My heart stopped.
—Then who did?
The girl didn’t answer.
The chamber lights flickered.
A new memory appeared on the wall.
I saw the hallway again.
But this time, I saw what happened after I opened the door.
A man stood outside.
He looked like Adrian.
Same height.
Same dark hair.
Same coat.
But something was wrong.
He smiled at me.
—Sophia.
I stepped backward.
—Adrian?
He nodded.
—It’s me.
Then I heard the real Adrian’s voice behind me.
—Sophia!
I turned.
He was running toward us from the other end of the hallway.
The person at the door smiled.
Then his face changed.
Not completely.
Just enough.
The memory version of him became someone else.
Victor.
I gasped.
—Victor pretended to be Adrian.
The girl nodded.
—Yes.
Adrian stared at the wall.
His face had gone pale.
—And I couldn’t stop him.
The memory continued.
Victor grabbed my wrist.
I struggled.
My father appeared behind him.
—Let her go.
Victor turned.
—You know what happens if she remembers.
My father stepped forward.
—She won’t remember.
—You can’t guarantee that.
Then my father looked directly at me.
—Sophia, listen to me.
The memory version of me was crying.
—Dad.
—You have to forget this.
—No.
—You have to.
—Why?
My father looked at Adrian.
Then back at me.
—Because if you remember what you saw tonight, they’ll never stop looking for you.
Victor smiled.
—She’s already seen enough.
My father moved toward him.
—Get away from my daughter.
Victor stepped back.
Then the memory changed again.
I saw something I had never seen before.
Another person entered the hallway.
A man.
Older.
Elegant.
Wearing a black coat.
Adrian’s father.
He looked at Victor.
—Did you get it?
Victor nodded.
—Almost.
My father looked furious.
—You promised she would be left alone.
Adrian’s father answered: —And you promised me the file.
My father shook his head.
—There is no file.
Adrian’s father smiled.
—Then we’ll take the girl instead.
My blood went cold.
Adrian stepped closer to the projection.
—My father wanted Sophia?
The girl answered: —Yes.
Adrian looked at me.
—Why?
I shook my head.
—I don’t know.
The memory showed my father stepping in front of me.
—You won’t touch her.
Adrian’s father stared at him.
—Then give me what she knows.
—She knows nothing.
Victor laughed.
—That’s not true.
He looked at me.
—She knows where Clara hid the archive.
The memory suddenly stopped.
Everything went black.
Adrian whispered: —The archive.
I nodded.
—My grandmother’s archive.
The girl stepped toward us.
—Now you know why everyone wanted your memories.
I looked at her.
—But if I knew where it was when I was seven, why did I forget?
She smiled sadly.
—Because you didn’t forget.
I stared at her.
—What?
She touched her chest.
—You gave the memory to me.
Silence.
Adrian frowned.
—How?
The girl looked at me.
—Your grandmother taught you how.
I felt a strange pressure in my head.
A new memory appeared.
Clara sitting with me in the chamber.
She was holding my face gently.
—Some memories are too dangerous to carry alone.
Young me looked confused.
—Then where do I put them?
Clara smiled.
—Somewhere nobody can reach.
She touched my forehead.
The room filled with light.
And suddenly there were two of me.
The girl across from me.
And me.
I stepped back.
—You created her.
The girl nodded.
—A memory copy.
Adrian stared.
—That’s impossible.
—Your mother made the system.
The girl smiled.
—Your grandmother learned how to use it.
She looked at me.
—And Sophia learned how to survive it.
I didn’t know whether to believe her.
But deep inside, I knew she was telling the truth.
Because I remembered.
Not everything.
But enough.
Clara had split the memory.
She had hidden the most dangerous part inside a copy.
A copy that the organization could never find.
A copy that looked exactly like me.
A copy that had been waiting for me.
I stepped closer.
—What did Clara hide?
The girl looked at me.
—The name.
—Whose name?
She smiled.
—The person who started everything.
Adrian stepped forward.
—Who?
The girl turned toward him.
—Your family knows.
His expression hardened.
—Who?
She whispered: —Your grandmother.
Adrian froze.
I stared at her.
—Adrian’s grandmother?
She nodded.
—The Blackwood family didn’t join the organization.
She looked at me.
—They created it.
Silence.
Then Adrian shook his head.
—That’s not possible.
The girl smiled sadly.
—You really do have your father’s memories.
Adrian looked at me.
—What does that mean?
Before I could answer, the chamber shook.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
The girl turned toward the entrance.
—They’re here.
My heart jumped.
—Who?
She looked at me.
—The people who have been waiting for you.
A distant sound echoed through the chamber.
Footsteps.
Then another.
And another.
Adrian moved closer to me.
—How many?
The girl listened.
—Enough.
I looked toward the door.
—Can we get out?
She shook her head.
—Not through the door you came through.
—Then how?
She pointed toward the floor.
A circle appeared beneath our feet.
The silver seal in my hand began glowing.
Adrian looked down.
—What’s happening?
The girl answered: —The chamber is choosing.
I looked at her.
—Choosing what?
She smiled.
—Which one of us gets to leave.
The circle brightened.
The floor began to open.
Adrian grabbed my hand.
—Sophia!
The world disappeared beneath us.
And as we fell into darkness, I heard the girl’s voice one last time.
—Don’t worry.
A pause.
—I’ll keep your memories safe.
Then she whispered: —But you should be more worried about what happens when Adrian remembers his.