Chapter 11 - The Sister Who Came Back From The Dead
The door opened.
Nobody moved.
The sound was slow.
Careful.
Like whoever was standing behind it already knew exactly what they were walking into.
Daniel stepped in front of me.
A protective instinct.
The same instinct that had made me trust him years ago.
The same instinct that had made me write the warning.
Don't trust the man who saves you.
I hated that my body remembered him before my mind did.
The person standing in the doorway was a woman.
Young.
Maybe in her twenties.
She looked nervous.
Afraid.
But she wasn't the woman in the photograph.
Not exactly.
The necklace was the same.
The one from my mother's pictures.
The one from my memories.
She looked at me.
And then she whispered:
"Hannah."
My heart stopped.
Not because she knew my name.
Everyone knew my name now.
Because of the way she said it.
Like she had been saying it her entire life.
Like she had waited years to finally say it out loud.
My mother took one step forward.
"Emma."
The woman froze.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Mom."
The word hit the room like an explosion.
I looked at my mother.
Then at the woman.
Then back at the bracelet still sitting on the table.
Emma.
My sister.
The baby I had forgotten.
The child everyone said had disappeared.
Was standing in front of me.
Alive.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't speak.
My mind rejected it.
Because my entire life had taught me that impossible things were not real.
Dead mothers didn't call.
Missing sisters didn't return.
Birth certificates didn't change.
But every impossible thing had happened to me in the last two days.
So maybe this was just another truth waiting to hurt me.
Emma walked slowly into the room.
Her eyes never left mine.
"I know this is a lot."
I almost laughed.
A lot.
That was the smallest word anyone could use.
"My whole life disappeared in forty-eight hours."
She looked down.
"I know."
I looked at her.
"How?"
She hesitated.
Then answered:
"Because I watched it happen."
The words confused me.
"What does that mean?"
Emma looked toward Daniel.
Then Charles.
Then my mother.
"I know about Project Aurora."
Nobody reacted.
Because they all expected that.
But I didn't.
"How?"
She looked at me.
"Because I was there."
My stomach tightened.
"You were a baby."
She nodded.
"I was."
A pause.
"Then they made sure I remembered."
The room became silent.
I looked at my mother.
"What is she talking about?"
My mother closed her eyes.
"Emma was the first."
"The first what?"
"The first person they successfully altered."
I stared.
Emma sat down slowly.
Her hands were shaking.
"They wanted to prove they could control memory."
She looked at me.
"They tested on me."
A cold feeling moved through my body.
"But it didn't work."
"Why?"
Her eyes met mine.
"Because you found me."
The memory came suddenly.
A flash.
A hospital hallway.
A little girl crying.
My own hands holding hers.
A voice.
My voice.
"Don't be scared. I'm here."
I grabbed the edge of the table.
Everyone noticed.
Daniel moved toward me.
I raised my hand.
"No."
He stopped.
I closed my eyes.
The memory continued.
A younger me.
Twenty-four years old.
Running through this hospital.
Looking for someone.
Looking for Emma.
Then another memory.
Daniel standing in front of me.
"You can't save her."
My younger self crying.
"You promised."
Daniel's voice.
"I promised I would protect you."
The memory disappeared.
I opened my eyes.
"You were there."
Daniel looked at me.
"Yes."
"You knew Emma."
He nodded.
"I helped you find her."
"Then why did you erase my memories?"
His face changed.
Because that was the question he had been avoiding.
"I didn't."
I froze.
"What?"
Daniel looked at my mother.
Then Emma.
"Not by myself."
My mother looked away.
I felt something break inside me.
"Who did?"
Nobody answered.
Then Emma spoke.
"I did."
I turned toward her.
"What?"
She looked down.
"I asked you to."
The room went silent.
My own sister.
The person I had spent my entire life not knowing existed.
Had asked me to forget.
"Why?"
Emma looked at me.
"Because they were coming."
"Who?"
She swallowed.
"The people who created Project Aurora."
My mother nodded.
"After Emma escaped, they realized she wasn't the only one who knew the truth."
I looked at myself.
"Me."
"Yes."
Emma reached into her bag.
She removed an old notebook.
My notebook.
The same one my mother showed me.
But this one had more pages.
"I found this after they erased you."
I stared.
"What is it?"
"Your memories."
I frowned.
"Written down?"
Emma nodded.
"You knew you would forget."
I touched the notebook.
"Why didn't anyone give this to me?"
Daniel answered quietly.
"Because you told us not to."
I looked at him.
"I did?"
He nodded.
"You said if you ever tried to read it before you were ready, you would put yourself in danger."
I opened the notebook.
The first page had one sentence.
If I am reading this, it means they found me again.
My hands trembled.
I turned the page.
More handwriting.
Mine.
I don't trust my memories.
I don't trust what I was told.
But I trust my fear.
I looked at Emma.
"Why am I scared of this?"
She looked sad.
"Because you knew the truth once."
"What truth?"
She pointed at the next page.
I read.
The project didn't fail.
It succeeded.
I stopped.
The next line was harder.
Because it wasn't about Emma.
It wasn't about Daniel.
It wasn't about my mother.
It was about me.
Subject One was never the experiment.
Subject One was the creator.
My breathing stopped.
"What does that mean?"
Nobody answered.
I looked at Charles.
Even he looked shaken.
Emma whispered:
"You weren't a victim of Project Aurora."
I looked at the page.
"You created it."
The words didn't make sense.
"No."
My voice cracked.
"I didn't."
Emma stepped closer.
"You did."
I shook my head.
"I would never."
"I know."
She touched the notebook.
"That's why you erased yourself."
The room went quiet.
I looked at Daniel.
"You knew?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"And you still stayed near me?"
His eyes filled with regret.
"Because I promised you."
"What promise?"
His answer was almost a whisper.
"That if you ever forgot who you were, I would make sure you had a chance to become someone better."
I looked away.
Because part of me hated him.
And part of me remembered loving him.
Not romantically.
Not the way stories usually described it.
Something deeper.
Trust.
The kind that came before betrayal.
My phone suddenly buzzed.
Everyone looked.
Unknown number.
A video file.
No message.
Just a name.
My name.
I opened it.
The screen showed a room.
A laboratory.
Empty.
Then a man walked into view.
Charles.
But younger.
Much younger.
He was standing beside someone.
Someone whose face was hidden.
Then the person turned around.
My blood went cold.
Because I knew that face.
I had seen it every day growing up.
In the mirror.
The video ended with one sentence.
A younger version of me whispered:
"Don't let her wake up."
The screen went black.
And then a second file appeared.
Created today.
May you like
The name on it was:
EMMA'S MEMORY RESTORATION COMPLETE.
