The entire day was a blur of flashing cameras, clipped questions, and forced smiles. By the time I finally got a moment to breathe, I had just survived a one-hour-long press conference that felt more like an interrogation than a public appearance.
I wasn’t alone up there. Kane’s family lawyer, Stefano Rollins, sat beside me—calm, calculated, and terrifyingly prepared. He had spent the entire day before drilling me on every possible question the media could throw. Every angle. Every accusation. Every conspiracy theory.
We had agreed on one narrative:
That I had lost my memories after the accident.
That a family found me on the outskirts of the city and hospitalized me.
That I was later taken abroad for further treatment.
And that after regaining my memories two years ago, I had finall
