ANAMNEX. Book 2: Forbidden Memory/Together

Chapter 8: The Breaking Point.

Monday I actually tried.

Got to the office at seven. Made myself coffee. Sat down with all the files for the investor meeting. Spreadsheets. Projections. Growth strategies. Everything David Park would want to see.

By nine I'd reviewed maybe half of it. My mind kept drifting. Thinking about Selene. About the photograph. About Elena Reyes and her guilt.

Rachel knocked on my door. "Morning. You're here early."

"Big meeting tomorrow. Need to prep."

"Good. That's good." She looked relieved. "Can I get you anything? More coffee?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

She left. I went back to the spreadsheets. Forced myself to focus.

Made it another hour before my phone buzzed. Text from Marcus.

"Still mad at you. But also still your friend. Good luck tomorrow."

I typed back. "Thanks. Sorry for being a dick."

"You're forgiven. Conditionally. Buy me coffee after your meeting and we'll call it even."

"Deal."

At least that was something. Marcus was still talking to me. Still willing to be my friend even though I was being impossible.

Lunch came and went. I ate at my desk. Kept working. Actually working.

By three I'd gone through all the files. Made notes. Prepared answers to potential questions. I felt ready.

My phone rang. Unknown number again.

"Hello?"

"Lyric Moreno?"

"Yes. Who's this?"

"My name is Thomas Hartley. I believe you own a building that used to belong to my grandfather."

My pulse jumped. Hartley. As in the Hartley Grand Hotel.

"Kestrel House. Yes. I own it."

"I was hoping we could meet. There are some things about that building's history I think you should know."

"What kind of things?"

"Things that are better discussed in person. Would you be available this week?"

I should've said no. Should've focused on the investor meeting. On work. On my real life.

But this was about the building. About Selene's past. I couldn't say no.

"I'm free Wednesday. After two."

"Perfect. There's a coffee shop near the building. Corner of Fifth and Main. Does three o'clock work?"

"Yeah. I'll be there."

"Thank you, Mr. Moreno. I appreciate it."

He hung up. I sat there wondering what the hell Thomas Hartley wanted. And how much he knew about what happened in 1987.

The rest of the day passed slowly. I kept working but my concentration was shot. All I could think about was seeing Selene tonight.

At six I gave up and left. Drove to Kestrel House. Went straight to the eighth floor.

The hallway shifted the moment I stepped out of the elevator. The Anamnex recognized me now. Responded faster.

Selene was waiting in the library. Sitting at the desk with the candle. Reading one of the memory books.

She looked up when I walked in. Smiled. "Hi. You're early."

"Couldn't focus anymore. Needed to see you."

"How's the prep going? For tomorrow?"

"Good. I'm ready. I think."

"You'll do great. You always do." She stood up and walked over to me. "What's wrong? You look stressed."

"I got a call today. From Thomas Hartley. The grandson of the guy who built the hotel."

Her expression changed. "What did he want?"

"To meet. Talk about the building's history. He said there are things I should know."

"When?"

"Wednesday. After my investor meeting."

Selene was quiet for a moment. "He knows something. About what happened. About me."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"The Hartley family always knew the building was special. Thomas's grandfather used to talk about it. Said the building had memory. That it held onto things." She walked back to the desk. "If Thomas wants to meet you, it's because he knows the building is still doing whatever it did back then."

"Should I cancel? Tell him I'm not interested?"

"No. You should go. You should hear what he has to say." She looked at me. "But Lyric, you have to be prepared. He might know about me. About what I became. About the Anamnex."

"And if he does?"

"Then your secret gets harder to keep. And your two worlds get even more tangled."

I walked over to her. Took her hands. "I can handle it."

"Can you? Because it feels like everything's closing in. Your friend confronting you. Elena showing up with that photograph. Now Thomas Hartley wanting to meet. How much longer before everyone knows you're involved with something impossible?"

"I don't care if they know."

"You should care. Your reputation. Your business. Everything you've built. It could all fall apart if people think you're crazy."

"Then I'll rebuild. I've done it before."

She shook her head. "You're not thinking clearly. You're so focused on making this work that you're not seeing the cost."

"The cost is worth it. You're worth it."

"Am I though? Really?" She pulled her hands away. "Because from where I'm standing, all I'm doing is ruining your life. Your friend thinks you're obsessed. Your work is suffering. And now people from the building's past are showing up asking questions. How is any of that worth it?"

"Because I love you."

"Love isn't always enough, Lyric. Sometimes love means letting go. Sometimes it means choosing what's best even when it hurts."

My stomach dropped. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying maybe we need to take a break. Maybe you need space to focus on your life. Your meeting tomorrow. Your company. All the things that matter."

"You matter."

"I know. But I'm not the only thing that should matter." She looked sad. "You've been choosing me over everything else. And it's destroying you. I can see it. Your friend can see it. Everyone can see it except you."

"So what? You're breaking up with me?"

"No. I'm asking you to take a step back. To put some distance between us. Just for a little while. Until you get your life back on track."

"I don't want distance. I want you."

"I want you too. But not like this. Not if it means watching you lose everything." She touched my face. "Go to your meeting tomorrow. Do well. Make your company proud. And then meet with Thomas Hartley on Wednesday. Figure out what he knows. Deal with your real life."

"And us?"

"We'll still be here. I'll still be here. But you need to prove you can balance both worlds. Not just choose one over the other."

I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her she was wrong. That I could handle everything.

But I was exhausted. Stressed. Barely keeping my head above water.

Maybe she was right.

"How long?" I asked.

"Just a few days. Get through this week. Then we'll figure out what comes next."

"I don't want to stay away from you."

"I know. I don't want it either. But we need this. You need this." She kissed me softly. "I love you, Lyric. That's why I'm asking you to do this. Because I want you to have everything. Not just me."

I pulled her close. Held her tight. "This is the hardest thing you've ever asked me to do."

"I know. But you can do it. You're stronger than you think."

We stayed like that for a long time. Just holding each other. Both of us knowing this might be the last time for a while.

When I finally let go I felt empty. Lost.

"I should go," I said. "Get some sleep before tomorrow."

"Yeah. You should." She walked me to the door. "Good luck. With the meeting. With everything."

"Thanks."

I kissed her one more time. Then I left.

The hallway shifted back to normal behind me. The Anamnex closing. Taking Selene with it.

I stood there for a moment feeling like my chest had been hollowed out.

She was right. I knew she was right. I needed to focus. Needed to get my life together.

But it hurt. God it hurt.

I went home and actually slept. Didn't set an alarm. Didn't plan to go back to Kestrel House late at night.

For the first time in weeks I was choosing my regular life over the Anamnex.

It felt wrong. But also necessary.

Tuesday morning I woke up early. Got to the office by seven. Reviewed everything one more time. By one-thirty I felt as ready as I'd ever be.

The meeting was at David Park's office across town. I got there fifteen minutes early. Sat in my car going over key points.

At two I walked in. Got shown to a conference room. David Park was already there with two other people. His team.

"Lyric. Good to see you. Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for the opportunity."

We shook hands. Sat down. Got to work.

The meeting went well. Really well. I was focused. Sharp. Answered every question. Had numbers ready. Explained my vision clearly.

By four they were nodding. Looking impressed.

"This is good work," David said. "Really solid. I think we can move forward with this."

Relief flooded through me. "That's great to hear."

"We'll have our lawyers draw up the paperwork. Should be ready to sign by end of next week."

"Perfect. I'll have my team review everything."

More handshakes. More pleasantries. By four-thirty I was walking back to my car feeling like I'd actually accomplished something.

My phone buzzed. Text from Marcus.

"How'd it go?"

"Really well. Think we got the deal."

"Congrats! Told you you could do it. Coffee tomorrow to celebrate?"

"Can't. Meeting with someone at three. Thursday?"

"Thursday works. Proud of you."

I smiled. Felt good. Normal. Like maybe I could actually balance both worlds after all.

Another text. This one from Rachel.

"Mr. Park's office just called to confirm. They're moving forward! Congratulations!"

"Thanks Rachel. Couldn't have done it without you."

I drove back to the office. Spent another hour wrapping up work. Answering emails. Getting things organized.

By six I was exhausted but in a good way. Productive exhaustion. The kind that comes from actually working instead of just stressing.

I thought about going to Kestrel House. About seeing Selene. Telling her how well the meeting went.

But I'd promised to give her space. To focus on my life.

So I went home instead. Ordered takeout. Watched TV. Did normal things.

It felt weird. Empty. But also kind of peaceful.

That night I slept seven hours straight. First time in weeks I'd slept that much.

Wednesday morning I felt better. More rested. Clearer.

Work went smoothly. Got a lot done. Actually enjoyed it.

At two-thirty I left for my meeting with Thomas Hartley. The coffee shop was small. Quiet. I got there early and grabbed a table.

At three exactly an older man walked in. Seventies maybe. Gray hair. Nice suit. He looked around until he spotted me.

"Lyric Moreno?"

"Mr. Hartley. Thanks for meeting me."

We shook hands. He ordered coffee. Sat down across from me.

"I appreciate you making time for this. I know you're busy."

"It's fine. You said you had information about the building?"

"Yes. About its history. Its nature." He took a sip of coffee. "My grandfather built the Hartley Grand in 1952. He was a dreamer. Believed buildings could have souls. Could hold memory."

"That's an interesting philosophy."

"It was more than philosophy to him. He designed that hotel specifically to encourage memory. To hold onto moments. The architecture. The materials. Everything was chosen to make the building more than just walls and floors."

I leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"He wanted to create a space where good memories would linger. Where happiness would echo. Where the building itself would remember the joy that happened inside it." Thomas paused. "And it worked. For decades the Hartley Grand was exactly what he wanted. A place where memory lived."

"Until the renovation."

"Yes. Until 1987. When they tried to erase everything. Gut the building. Strip away its memory." He looked sad. "My grandfather died in 1985. He would've been heartbroken to see what they did."

"What happened during the renovation? Really?"

Thomas met my eyes. "You already know, don't you? You've felt it. The building still holds memory. Still creates impossible spaces. Still refuses to forget."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've been watching the building for thirty-nine years. Waiting to see if it would choose someone new. Someone who would notice. Someone who would care." He smiled slightly. "And it chose you."

My mouth went dry. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. You've seen the hallways that shouldn't exist. The rooms that appear and disappear. You've felt the building's presence." He leaned forward. "And you've met her, haven't you? The photographer. Selene."

I couldn't breathe. "How do you know about her?"

"Because she's not the first. My grandfather told me stories. About people the building would choose. People who loved it enough to become part of it. Part of its memory." He pulled out an old journal. "He documented three others over the years. People who vanished into the building. Became something more than human."

"Three others? Before Selene?"

"Yes. The building has been doing this since it was built. Choosing people who notice. Who care. Who love it enough to stay." He slid the journal across to me. "Read it. Learn the history. Understand what you're dealing with."

I opened the journal. Saw handwritten entries dating back to the fifties. Names. Dates. Descriptions of people who disappeared into the Anamnex.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you need to know what you're getting into. The building doesn't let go easily. And the people it chooses pay a price." He looked serious. "Selene has been there for thirty-nine years. Part of the building. Part of its memory. That's not going to change."

"What if I want to help her? Find a way to free her?"

"There isn't one. Not that I've found. The building keeps what it takes. Forever."

"Then why tell me any of this? Why not just let me figure it out on my own?"

"Because you deserve to know the truth. What happened to Selene. What could happen to you if you're not careful." He stood up. "The building is powerful. It creates bonds that are hard to break. And once you're connected to it, to her, pulling away becomes nearly impossible."

"I don't want to pull away."

"I know. None of them did either. But eventually you'll have to choose. Your life or hers. The real world or the Anamnex. The building doesn't allow for both."

He left the journal on the table. "Keep it. Learn from it. And be careful, Mr. Moreno. The building may seem magical. Beautiful. Worth any price. But everything comes with a cost."

He left. I sat there staring at the journal.

Three others before Selene. All of them chosen by the building. All of them lost to the Anamnex.

And Thomas was right. I was connected now. Bonded. Pulling away would be like cutting off part of myself.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe some things were worth the cost.

I picked up the journal and walked out.

Tomorrow I'd go back to Kestrel House. Back to Selene. Back to the Anamnex.

But tonight I'd read. Learn the history. Understand what I was really part of.

Because Thomas was wrong about one thing.

I wasn't going to choose between my life and Selene.

I was going to find a way to have both.

No matter what it took.