CHAPTER 5 — The Memory Neither Remembers
336 Words
By Friday, the echoes had become part of Asha’s routine — random sparks of emotion that weren’t hers.
She felt Lyon’s stress during a math quiz.
Lyon felt her panic before a class presentation.
Each echo tied them closer, even when they didn’t speak.
That evening, Asha’s mother knocked on her door.
“Family photos,” she said. “Help me sort them?”
Asha didn’t want to — but the heaviness in her mother’s voice made her follow quietly.
Boxes were scattered across the living room floor. Asha sat down and opened one lazily, expecting old birthday pictures and blurry toddler shots.
But then she paused.
A photo slipped out — faded, old, edges bending.
It showed two toddlers holding hands in a daycare yard.
One of them was Asha.
The other… looked painfully familiar.
Her mother stiffened.
“You weren’t supposed to see that yet.”
“Who is he?” Asha asked cautiously.
Her mother hesitated.
Then said quietly, “His name is Lyon Hale.”
Asha’s breath caught.
“You knew him?” she whispered.
Her mother nodded slowly.
“You two used to be close. Before the accident.”
Asha’s heart pounded. “What accident?”
Her mother exhaled shakily, eyes distant.
“There was a fire at the daycare. You were both trapped inside a storage room. When we found you two…”
She paused.
“You were holding each other. Your heartbeats were almost identical — the doctor said it was shock.”
Asha felt the ground tilt beneath her.
Memories tugged at the edge of her mind — shadows of smoke, someone crying, a hand gripping hers — but nothing clear.
She clutched the photo, pulse racing, and for a moment she felt a faint echo from Lyon, far away — a wave of confusion and unease, like he knew something important was happening to her.
Asha stared at the picture again.
She and Lyon had been connected once before.
Maybe their hearts had never truly let go
- Writer
