Because Julian Blackwood never died.
The words seemed to echo through the theater.
And then— He’s coming back.
I looked at Adrian.
He didn’t move.
For the first time since I’d met him, I couldn’t read his expression.
He looked completely lost.
—No —he whispered.
The man holding the black box smiled.
—You were always told Julian died eleven years ago.
Adrian’s voice was barely audible.
—He did.
—Did you see his body?
Adrian said nothing.
The man stepped closer.
—Did you attend a funeral?
Still nothing.
—Did anyone ever let you see what was inside the coffin?
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
—Stop.
—Why?
Because you’re afraid?
Adrian suddenly moved forward.
I grabbed his arm.
—Adrian.
He stopped.
The man looked at me.
—Good.
You’re the one person he still listens to.
I didn’t like the way he said it.
—Who are you?
He smiled.
—My name is Marcus Vale.
The name meant nothing to me.
But my mother reacted.
She took a step backward.
Evelyn noticed.
—Elena?
My mother shook her head.
—No.
Marcus looked at her.
—Still pretending you don’t know me?
My mother finally looked at him.
—You shouldn’t be here.
—Neither should your daughter.
I stepped forward.
—What do you want?
Marcus lifted the black box.
—What everyone has wanted since the beginning.
—My memories?
—No.
He looked directly into my eyes.
—The memory you haven’t recovered yet.
The girl beside the theater doors whispered: —Memory Zero.
I felt cold.
—What is Memory Zero?
Marcus smiled.
—The memory of the night Project Echo was created.
My mother immediately interrupted.
—Sophia, don’t listen to him.
I turned toward her.
—Why?
She looked terrified.
—Because he’s lying.
Marcus laughed quietly.
—That’s what she told herself for years.
Evelyn stepped between them.
—Enough.
Marcus looked at her.
—You still think you can control this?
—No.
Evelyn’s voice was calm.
—I’m trying to stop it.
Marcus looked at me.
—Then perhaps you should tell her what happened in the hospital.
My mother went pale.
I stared at her.
—What happened?
—Nothing.
Marcus shook his head.
—Everything.
I looked at Adrian.
He was still staring at the photograph.
At the three children.
Me.
Him.
Julian.
I touched the image.
—When was this taken?
Marcus answered.
—Eleven years ago.
—That’s impossible.
—Why?
—Because I was seven.
—Exactly.
I looked at Adrian.
—You were eight.
He nodded slowly.
Marcus continued.
—You two had already met several times by then.
I frowned.
—Why don’t I remember?
—Because Elena erased those memories.
My mother closed her eyes.
I felt anger rising.
—Mom.
She opened them.
—Sophia, I did what I had to do.
—Everyone says that.
My voice shook.
—Everyone says they lied to protect me.
I looked around the theater.
—Everyone has a reason.
Then I looked at my mother.
—But nobody tells me the truth.
She stepped toward me.
—Because the truth could destroy you.
—Maybe I’m tired of being protected.
Silence.
Adrian finally spoke.
—Tell her.
My mother looked at him.
—Adrian— —Tell her.
His voice was firm.
—You erased both of us.
My mother looked down.
—Yes.
—You knew about Julian.
She didn’t answer.
Adrian stepped closer.
—Did you know he was alive?
My mother swallowed.
—Not at first.
Adrian’s face tightened.
—When did you find out?
—Three years ago.
He stared at her.
—Three years?
—Yes.
—And you never told me?
—Because by then it was already too dangerous.
Adrian laughed bitterly.
—You erased my brother from my life.
My mother shook her head.
—No.
She looked at him.
—Someone else did.
The theater fell silent.
Adrian stopped.
—Who?
My mother looked at Marcus.
Marcus smiled.
—Now we’re getting somewhere.
I looked at him.
—You knew Julian.
—Yes.
—Where is he?
Marcus didn’t answer.
Instead, he opened the black box.
Inside was a small device.
It looked like an old music player.
He pressed a button.
A recording began.
Static.
Then a boy’s voice.
Young.
Frightened.
—Adrian?
Adrian froze.
The recording continued.
—If you hear this, don’t believe them.
Adrian stepped closer.
—Julian?
The voice continued.
—They’ll tell you I died.
A pause.
—Don’t believe them.
Adrian’s breathing changed.
I watched him carefully.
—Julian —he whispered.
The recording continued.
—I tried to go back for you.
Static.
—I couldn’t.
Another pause.
—I’m sorry.
The recording stopped.
Adrian stood completely still.
Then he turned toward my mother.
—Where is he?
My mother looked at him.
—Blackwood Manor.
Adrian immediately headed toward the exit.
I followed.
—Adrian, wait.
He didn’t stop.
—I’m going with you.
He finally turned.
—No.
—I’m coming.
—Sophia— —You don’t get to decide for me anymore.
He stared at me.
Then, unexpectedly, he nodded.
—Fine.
We left the theater.
My mother and Evelyn followed.
Marcus remained behind.
The girl stayed with him.
Before I walked through the doors, I looked back.
Marcus was smiling.
The girl wasn’t.
She was staring at me with an expression I couldn’t understand.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For me.
The drive to Blackwood Manor was silent.
Adrian drove faster than usual.
His hands were tight around the steering wheel.
I watched him.
—Are you okay?
—No.
It was the first honest answer he’d given me.
I didn’t push.
After a moment, he spoke.
—When I was eight, I remember my brother disappearing.
I turned toward him.
—What do you remember?
—A staircase.
—At Blackwood Manor?
—Yes.
He swallowed.
—My father told me Julian had fallen.
I frowned.
—Fallen?
—He said there had been an accident.
—And you believed him?
—I was eight.
I nodded.
He continued.
—I remember asking to see him.
His voice became quieter.
—My father said there was nothing to see.
I looked out the window.
—Then where did the funeral come from?
Adrian shook his head.
—There wasn’t one.
I turned back.
—What?
—There was a memorial.
He looked at me.
—Not a funeral.
My stomach tightened.
—So everyone told you he was dead.
—Yes.
—But he wasn’t.
—Apparently not.
We reached the gates.
They were open.
That immediately worried me.
Adrian stopped the car.
—Stay close.
We entered.
The manor was dark.
No lights.
No guards.
No movement.
We stepped inside.
The front hall looked exactly as I remembered.
Except for one thing.
A photograph had been placed on the table.
I walked toward it.
It showed the Blackwood family.
Adrian’s father.
His grandfather.
Adrian.
Julian.
And someone else.
My mother.
I stared.
—Why is she here?
Adrian took the photograph.
On the back was a date.
October 14 — FIRST TRANSFER.
Below it: SUBJECTS: SOPHIA BENNETT / ADRIAN BLACKWOOD / JULIAN BLACKWOOD Adrian’s hand trembled.
—First transfer?
I looked at him.
—What does that mean?
A sound came from upstairs.
A door closing.
Adrian immediately looked toward the staircase.
—Someone’s here.
We climbed.
The hallway was dark.
Then a light appeared beneath one door.
Adrian opened it.
Inside was a small bedroom.
A child’s bedroom.
There were old toys on the shelves.
A desk.
Books.
And photographs covering the walls.
I walked inside.
—This was Julian’s room.
Adrian nodded.
I picked up a photograph.
Julian and Adrian were sitting on the floor.
I was between them.
All three of us were smiling.
On the back: THE THREE SUBJECTS MUST NEVER REMEMBER EACH OTHER.
My heart pounded.
—We weren’t just friends.
Adrian looked at the photograph.
—No.
—What were we?
He didn’t answer.
A voice came from behind us.
—You were witnesses.
We turned.
A boy stood in the doorway.
He looked about nineteen.
Dark hair.
Pale face.
Same eyes as Adrian.
My heart stopped.
Adrian stared at him.
Neither moved.
Then the boy smiled.
—Hello, brother.
Adrian’s face went completely blank.
—Julian.
Julian nodded.
—You finally remembered me.
I looked between them.
For some reason, tears filled my eyes.
I didn’t understand why.
Julian looked at me.
—And you.
He smiled softly.
—You remembered me too.
I shook my head.
—Not completely.
—You will.
Adrian stepped between us.
—Stay away from her.
Julian looked amused.
—Still protecting her?
—Yes.
Julian’s smile faded.
—You shouldn’t.
Adrian frowned.
—Why?
Julian looked at me.
—Because the person you think you’re protecting her from…
He paused.
—Isn’t the person you should be afraid of.
My mother appeared at the end of the hallway.
—Julian.
He turned.
His expression changed immediately.
—Elena.
My mother looked devastated.
—I’m sorry.
Julian laughed.
—You were sorry eleven years ago.
—You don’t understand.
—Then explain it.
My mother couldn’t.
Julian looked at Adrian.
—Ask her what happened after the transfer.
Adrian stared at him.
—What transfer?
Julian looked at me.
—The night they separated our memories.
I felt a strange pressure behind my eyes.
A memory began forming.
A hospital.
Three children.
My mother.
Clara.
Evelyn.
And another man.
A man wearing the black ring.
But this time, his face wasn’t hidden.
I gasped.
I knew him.
I had seen him before.
Not in a photograph.
Not in a memory.
In real life.
I turned toward my mother.
—Mom…
She looked at me.
—What?
I pointed toward the hallway.
—He’s here.
Everyone froze.
—Who?
—Adrian asked.
I could barely speak.
—The man from the memory.
The man wearing the black ring.
Then a voice came from downstairs.
—You finally remembered me.
Adrian turned toward the stairs.
My mother covered her mouth.
Julian smiled bitterly.
And someone began walking slowly up toward us.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Until the man reached the light.
I knew his face.
So did Adrian.
His father.
But behind him stood another person.
My father.
Daniel Bennett.
And Daniel was pointing a gun directly at him.
—Nobody moves.
My heart stopped.
Because Daniel wasn’t looking at Adrian’s father.
He was looking at me.
—Sophia, listen carefully.
His voice shook.
—You cannot trust Julian.
Julian’s smile disappeared.
And Adrian whispered: —Dad…
Then the lights went out.