THE PAST YOU NEVER LIVED
1438 Words
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Silas’s final words—“Especially not me”—echoed through the cold room long after he turned away to sift through a stack of documents. Emberly stood still, the air tightening around her. She felt like someone had reached into her chest and twisted everything she thought she knew into knots.
She had been a key.
A vessel.
A living vault for someone else’s war.
Her father wasn’t who she thought he was.
Her past wasn’t hers.
Her memories weren’t entirely hers either.
The room spun slightly, and she pressed a hand to the wall to steady herself.
Silas noticed.
“You’re dehydrated,” he said without turning. “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog,” Emberly snapped, panic sharpening into anger.
Silas glanced at her over his shoulder. “No. Dogs are easier to manage.”
She nearly threw a file at his head.
Instead, she sat—mostly because her legs were shaking too violently to keep standing.
Silas placed a bottle of water in front of her, not gently but not cruelly either. He was hard to read—not like Aiden or Liam, whose emotions were worn openly in their expressions. Silas was a locked vault of intention, giving just enough information to destabilize her but never enough to fully trust.
Emberly twisted the cap off and took a long drink. When she lowered the bottle, Silas was watching her.
“What?” she demanded.
“You’re calmer than you should be.”
“I’m one scream away from passing out.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re adapting.”
Her breath caught.
Silas continued, “Most people who learn their memories are compromised experience dissociation. You process. Quickly. Efficiently.” His head tilted. “It’s almost… instinctual.”
Emberly’s skin prickled. “Are you studying me right now?”
“Yes.”
She blinked. “I— You’re not even trying to hide it?”
“Hiding wastes time.”
Her jaw tightened. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re in denial,” he countered. “Everything in your mind—your abilities—didn’t appear randomly. They were engineered.”
The word slammed into her.
Engineered.
She shook her head. “My father wouldn’t have done that to me.”
Silas approached slowly, stopping just close enough to trap her in his shadow. “Not to you,” he said. “For you.”
Emberly swallowed. “That doesn’t make it better.”
“No,” Silas admitted, eyes softening just slightly. “It doesn’t.”
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The Hidden Tape
He turned to a metal drawer, pulled out a small black case, and placed it on the table between them.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Proof your father wasn’t a monster,” Silas said. “Or… not the kind you think.”
He clicked the case open.
Inside was a single microcassette.
Emberly’s breath hitched. “What is this?”
“A recording your father made the night before he died. Or rather… the night he was killed.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached for it.
“Ease into it,” Silas warned. “Memory triggers can hit hard with these.”
“What kind of trigger—”
But as soon as she touched the tape, the projection slammed into her.
A man pacing.
A shadow outside a door.
The sound of rain.
A voice—frantic, terrified:
“If anyone finds this, protect her. She’s the only one who can finish what I started.”
Emberly gasped and pulled her hand back as though burned.
Silas watched her carefully. “Are you all right?”
“No,” she whispered. “Play it.”
He lifted a small handheld recorder and slid the tape inside. When he pressed PLAY, static filled the room, followed by a shaky inhale.
Then the voice.
Her father’s voice.
“Emberly… if this reaches you, then I failed.”
Her throat closed.
Silas stood beside her—not touching, not offering comfort, but a silent anchor.
“I never wanted you involved,” the voice continued. “I never wanted your mind used as a vault. But they forced my hand. They were coming for the research, for me… for you.”
Emberly covered her mouth.
“I hid the prototypes,” her father said. “Pieces of them. And one piece is inside you. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. But it’s the only way to stop them.”
The tape crackled.
Footsteps.
A knock on a door.
A gun being loaded.
Silas stiffened.
“You must find the others,” her father whispered hurriedly. “There are seven fragments. Yours is the first. If they get all seven—”
A crash.
A shout.
The recording ended abruptly.
Emberly stared at the dead silence, tears she didn’t feel falling down her cheeks.
She whispered, “He died because of me.”
Silas’s expression flickered. Something like sympathy, but buried beneath layers of discipline. “No,” he said. “He died protecting you.”
Emberly looked away. “Same thing.”
Silas exhaled. “Emberly… everything he did was to give you a chance to survive. And he succeeded.”
She shook her head, tears slipping fast now. “Survive? You mean run. Hide. Lose my mind. Watch everyone I care about get dragged into this.”
Silas lifted her chin gently with two fingers.
It startled her—soft, intimate, steady.
“No,” he said quietly. “I mean fight.”
Her breath caught at the closeness.
His voice dropped. “You’re stronger than you realize. Smarter. More dangerous. And the people hunting you know it.”
He pulled his hand back before she could react, stepping away, regaining his composure.
“Now,” he said briskly, “there’s someone else you need to see.”
Emberly wiped her eyes. “Who?”
Silas hesitated.
And that alone terrified her—because Silas Vale never hesitated.
He finally spoke.
“Someone who knew your father,” he said. “Someone who disappeared before the experiments ever began.”
Emberly stiffened. “Who?”
Silas looked her dead in the eyes.
“Your mother.”
The world went silent.
Emberly felt her lungs collapse. “My mother is dead.”
Silas shook his head once—slow, solemn.
“No. She’s alive.”
Her heart stuttered painfully. “That’s not possible.”
“It is.” Silas’s expression darkened. “She’s been in hiding for seventeen years. And she didn’t want to be found.”
“Why?” Emberly whispered.
Silas hesitated again.
“She’s one of them.”
Emberly stepped back, shaking her head. “No. No, my mother—my mother couldn’t be—”
“She created the program,” Silas said. “She is the architect.”
Emberly felt the floor fall away beneath her feet.
“My mother is part of the people hunting me?”
Silas’s voice softened, almost reluctant. “She’s not hunting you. Not yet.”
“Not yet?” Emberly snapped. “What does that mean?”
Silas glanced at the wall of photos—diagrams, missing persons, classified documents.
“She believes you’re dead,” he said. “If she learns the truth… we don’t know what she’ll do.”
Emberly’s voice cracked. “Why didn’t my father tell me?”
“Because he was protecting you from her.”
Her hand shook violently. “Take me to her.”
Silas’s jaw flexed. “Not now.”
“Take me to her,” Emberly repeated, louder.
Silas stepped forward, intensity radiating off him. “You’re not ready. She is not who you want her to be.”
Emberly glared at him, her fear burning into anger. “You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for.”
Silas leaned in, his voice low and lethal. “If she sees you before we have the other fragments, she will use you. She will take what’s inside your mind. And she will destroy you if you resist.”
Emberly’s heart pounded.
Silas touched her wrist lightly—barely a brush of skin. Enough to tether her back to reality.
“We will find her,” he whispered. “But not today.”
Emberly swallowed hard. “Then what happens today?”
Silas turned to the board.
“Today,” he said, “we hunt the second fragment.”
Her pulse quickened.
“And where is it?” she asked.
Silas looked at her—eyes dark, dangerous, and unreadable.
“Aiden has it.”
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- Writer
