Chapter Twenty Nine
748 Words
Mila’s POV
The morning light felt wrong.
Too bright. Too calm.
Like the world had no idea what had happened last night.
I sat at my vanity, staring at my reflection — the same face, same curls, same silver bracelet.
But my eyes… they looked different.
Haunted. Awake.
In my school bag, zipped deep beneath my books, the small black hard drive sat hidden inside a makeup pouch. Every time I looked at the bag, I felt its weight — like it was alive, pulsing with secrets.
*****
“Sweetheart, you’re quiet today,” Mom said as we sat for breakfast.
I forced a small smile. “Didn’t sleep much.”
Dad folded his newspaper. “First week jitters? You’ll settle in.”
If only it were that simple.
Their voices faded as I picked at my food.
Because all I could think about was the video — Lennox’s younger face, the Omega symbol, the words “She’d never remember.”
Except I was remembering.
And that scared me more than anything.
*****
At school, the corridors were buzzing with morning energy — laughter, chatter, lockers slamming. But to me, everything felt sharper, more suspicious. Every glance, every whisper.
Was it just gossip?
Or did someone know?
I found Xavier near the courtyard, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets like always.
But today his eyes were restless.
“You kept it safe?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. “Didn’t sleep all night. I kept hearing it beep — like it wanted to be plugged in.”
He gave me a look. “That’s your paranoia talking.”
“Or maybe it’s my memory catching up,” I shot back.
He didn’t argue.
*****
We walked into class together — and stopped cold.
Lennox was there.
Leaning against the teacher’s desk, flipping through a file that wasn’t his.
He looked up when we entered, and that slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
“Morning, Mila. Xavier.”
He said our names like a warning.
“Morning, sir,” Xavier muttered, taking his seat. I followed, feeling Lennox’s gaze burn the back of my neck.
As class began, I tried to focus. I really did.
But then I noticed it.
The new camera.
Mounted just above the whiteboard.
Small. Barely visible.
But pointed directly at me.
My breath caught.
Xavier noticed too. His eyes flicked toward it, then back to me. He shook his head slightly, mouthing: Don’t react.
I forced myself to look away, heart pounding.
Lennox started pacing between the rows of desks, his tone casual, his steps deliberate.
“Observation,” he said, tapping his marker on the board. “It’s a skill that separates the oblivious from the aware.”
He stopped beside my desk.
“So tell me, Mila,” he said softly, “what have you observed lately?”
The entire class turned. My throat tightened.
“Nothing… unusual,” I lied.
Lennox smiled.
“That’s the thing about unusual things,” he said. “They hide best in plain sight.”
He walked away, but his words lingered like a threat.
*****
When the bell rang, I practically ran out of the room.
Xavier followed.
“He knows,” I hissed once we were out of earshot. “He’s watching everything — the cameras, the files—”
“I know,” he said, grabbing my arm to steady me. “But he can’t prove anything. Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I echoed. “Xavier, he’s already one step ahead.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he looked down the hall — toward the faculty wing where Lennox had disappeared.
“We’ll need help,” he said finally. “Someone outside the school system. Someone who can c***k that drive without triggering whatever trap’s on it.”
“Do you know someone?”
He hesitated.
Then nodded slowly.
“Yeah. But you’re not gonna like her.”
*****
That night, back home, I locked my bedroom door and pulled the hard drive out again.
For a second, I swore I heard it — a faint hum, like static trapped inside.
And when I held it to the light, the reflection showed something I hadn’t noticed before —
engraved into the metal, barely visible.
The same Ω symbol.
But now, beneath it, smaller letters:
“Project Mnemosyne.”
I didn’t know what it meant.
But something deep in my chest whispered —
It was never just a memory.
- Writer
