Chapter Five: Buried Flames
She didn't respond.
But she didn't leave the room either.
Elara stood near the desk, fingers brushing the edge of her father's letter as if the words might burn themselves into her skin. Damian stayed by the doorway, silent but present. The quiet between them wasn't awkward, it was loaded. Like a dam waiting to break.
I want to see everything, she said finally. Every file. Every trace of this Project LUCID.
Damian nodded, stepping forward. There's more. A hidden archive in the basement. Your father kept backups there in case this room was compromised.
They walked down together, the air cooler as they descended the narrow staircase beneath the library. The walls were stone, old but solid, and at the bottom was another steel door. Damian used a key and palm scan to open it.
Inside, it was dim, lit only by a row of soft yellow lights along the ceiling. Metal filing cabinets lined the walls. In the center stood a worktable with several boxes already open.
Damian handed her a thick file labeled Genotek, Confidential.
Elara flipped it open and immediately froze.
A photo slipped out.
It was her.
She looked younger, maybe twenty. Her wrists were strapped to a padded table, wires affixed to her temples. Her eyes were wide with terror.
That's from the initial trials, Damian said quietly. When they first used LUCID on you.
She clenched her jaw. Who took this?
Your uncle's people, he said. But someone inside leaked it. That's how your father knew what they were doing behind his back.
She dropped the file onto the table. They experimented on me like I was nothing.
Damian stepped closer. You were never nothing. You were the key. And that's why they feared you.
The flicker of something stirred inside her, rage, grief, maybe both. She looked at him, eyes burning. Did you know this was happening to me?
No, he said, voice low. By the time I found out, you were already gone. I tried to track you down. I tried to fight it, but they were faster. Smarter. And I wasn't strong enough.
She stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for cracks. Lies. But all she saw was the weight of guilt that hadn't been lifted in years.
I don't want your regret, she said. I want justice.
"You'll get it, he promised. I'll help you take them all down.
Another file caught her eye. It was thicker than the rest, secured with a red string. She untied it and opened the cover. Inside, handwritten notes. Some in her father's handwriting.
Others in hers.
These are mine, she murmured, tracing the familiar loops and strokes. I wrote these?
You did, Damian said. Before your memory was taken. Your father had you document everything in case of emergency. Your words were the contingency plan.
She flipped through the pages. Notes on financial corruption. Mentions of overseas accounts. A schedule of meetings between her uncle and a shell company called Evermond Holdings.
Then, at the bottom of one page, scribbled in rushed handwriting:
The condo. Hidden there. Don't let them find it.
Elara looked up. My condo, before I disappeared. Something's hidden there.
Damian's brows drew together. We checked it. Harrison's men swept it months ago.
Then they missed something, she said. If my past self thought it was worth hiding, I'm going to find it.
He didn't argue. Then we go tonight.
They packed what they could, files, copies of her notes, and the letter from her father. Back upstairs, the tension between them was palpable. He checked his wound before they left, redressing it carefully.
You're still bleeding, she said.
I've bled worse, he replied. For less important things.
She met his eyes. Damian... what were we? Before everything?
He paused. I told you we were something real. But it wasn't just a fling or a secret. It was... everything.
And did I love you? she asked.
He didn't answer right away.
You looked at me once like I was your anchor. Like I was the one person who reminded you how to breathe. And yeah, you loved me. But I don't want to be a memory, I want to be real to you again.
Her throat tightened. Then stop hiding. Stop trying to manage me like I'm still broken.
I'm not trying to manage you, he said. I'm trying to protect you.
Then let me be part of the fight.
He nodded. Then stay close. Things are going to get dangerous from here.
The drive back into the city was quiet. Elara sat in the passenger seat, her thoughts a tangle of images, her own handwriting, her father's voice, Damian's confession.
By the time they arrived at the condo, the streets were slick from a light rain. Damian parked in the underground garage beneath the building and led her through a back stairwell.
The condo was still sealed. But inside, it was like a museum, untouched, frozen in time.
Everything smelled faintly of lavender and old secrets.
I used to live here, she said, stepping into the living room.
Damian nodded. You were happiest here. You said it felt like freedom.
She moved to the bedroom, opening drawers, searching for anything that felt out of place.
Then, beneath the closet floorboard, her fingers hit something.
A hidden compartment.
She pried it open.
Inside, an old silver locket and a small flash drive wrapped in black velvet.
She pulled both out carefully.
Damian stared at the drive. Is that what I think it is?
I don't know, Elara whispered. But we're about to find out.