I didn’t sleep that night.
Not because of the usual nightmares or the echo of Asher’s voice whispering through the walls of my apartment—but because something inside me had cracked open.
A seam, buried deep, now bleeding light and noise.
The moment he said it—I erased your memories—something ancient inside me had stirred.
At first, I thought it was rage.
But rage didn’t burn this quietly.
It was memory. Real memory. Slipping in like water through stone.
⸻
The scent of pine.
A silver moon.
Laughter, his voice deeper than it should’ve been for a sixteen-year-old boy.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Ava. I’d never hurt you.”
My fingers tangled in his hair, both of us wet from the lake. My heart beating so hard it felt like it was trying to break free of my ribs.
I kissed him
