CHAPTER NINE - THE MEMORY
3073 Words
The message remained on my screen.
HE KNOWS YOU'VE STARTED REMEMBERING.
I read it again.
And again.
Then I looked at Leo.
He was still driving.
His hands were tight around the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road.
“Who sent that?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You know something.”
Leo exhaled slowly.
“Amaria, please.”
“Don't please me.”
I held up my phone.
“Who is he?”
Leo didn't answer.
“The man in the photograph.”
Silence.
“You said he died nineteen years ago.”
“I said you thought he died.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
His jaw tightened.
“You're not ready.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That's everyone's favorite sentence.”
He glanced at me.
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
I turned toward the window.
“I've spent my whole life being told what I can and cannot know.”
“I'm trying to keep you safe.”
“From him?”
“Yes.”
“From my father?”
Leo said nothing.
I stared at him.
“Is he alive?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
My heart sank.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying again.”
“I don't know where he is now.”
“But you know where he was.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Recently.”
I turned toward him.
“How recently?”
He didn't answer.
“Leo.”
“Three months ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“You saw him three months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I can't tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because he'll know I'm talking.”
“Maybe he should know.”
“No.”
His voice became unusually serious.
“You don't understand what this man is capable of.”
I stared at him.
“Then help me understand.”
He didn't answer.
The silence became unbearable.
Finally, I asked:
“Did he hurt my mother?”
Leo's eyes remained on the road.
“I don't know.”
“Did he take me?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Leo's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
“People working for him.”
I stared at him.
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
“Your father?”
“No.”
“My uncle?”
“No.”
“Grandma?”
He shook his head.
“Then who?”
“People you don't know.”
I looked down at my phone.
The photograph was still there.
Elena.
Me.
And the mysterious man.
I zoomed in.
There was something hanging around his neck.
A necklace.
A small silver pendant.
I had seen it before.
But where?
I closed my eyes.
And suddenly—
a memory surfaced.
A hallway.
A woman's voice.
A door closing.
A silver pendant swinging as someone walked away.
I opened my eyes.
My breathing became uneven.
“What?”
Leo glanced at me.
“I remembered something.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“A necklace.”
“What kind?”
“Silver.”
Leo immediately slowed the car.
“What else?”
“I don't know.”
“Try.”
“I saw someone wearing it.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Amaria, think.”
“I am!”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
The memory returned.
A room.
White curtains.
Someone holding my hand.
A woman's voice whispering:
Don't forget me.
I opened my eyes.
“Mom.”
Leo looked at me.
“What?”
“I think it was my mother.”
---
He drove for another twenty minutes without speaking.
Eventually, he pulled over.
I looked around.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere quiet.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to tell me exactly what you remember.”
I frowned.
“You're suddenly interested?”
“I've always been interested.”
“That isn't comforting.”
He ignored that.
“Start from the beginning.”
I closed my eyes.
“I was in a room.”
“What room?”
“I don't know.”
“Hospital?”
“Maybe.”
“What else?”
“A woman was holding my hand.”
“Elena?”
“I think so.”
“What did she say?”
I swallowed.
“Don't forget me.”
Leo went completely still.
“What else?”
“She was crying.”
“Did she say anything else?”
I shook my head.
Then another image flashed through my mind.
A man standing in the doorway.
The silver pendant.
A suitcase.
My mother shouting.
I opened my eyes.
“There was a man.”
Leo's face tightened.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“What did he look like?”
“I couldn't see his face.”
“Anything else?”
“He was holding something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of you?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
I stared at him.
“Of Elena.”
Leo said nothing.
Then my phone vibrated.
Another message.
YOU REMEMBERED THE ROOM. NOW REMEMBER THE DOOR.
I showed him.
He went pale.
“You need to turn your phone off.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is sending these knows what you're remembering.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“It means they're close.”
I looked around.
The road was empty.
“What if they're watching us now?”
Leo looked into the rear-view mirror.
“Maybe they are.”
---
When we returned to the house, something felt different.
The front door was unlocked.
I stopped.
“Did you lock it?”
Leo shook his head.
“I wasn't here.”
“Neither was I.”
He reached for the handle.
I grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
He looked at me.
“Someone could be inside.”
“I know.”
“Then don't go in.”
“I have to.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
For once, I saw uncertainty in his eyes.
Then he opened the door.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
We entered.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
The living room was exactly as we'd left it.
The dining room was untouched.
But when we reached the staircase, I noticed something.
A photograph lay on the floor.
I picked it up.
It was an old photograph of our family.
Everyone was smiling.
Grandma.
Mom.
Uncle.
Leo's father.
Elena.
And me.
Except I was a baby.
Someone had drawn a circle around me.
On the back was a message.
SHE WAS NEVER THE SECRET.
I stared at it.
“What does that mean?”
Leo took the photograph.
His face changed.
“What?”
He didn't answer.
“Leo.”
He turned it over again.
There was something else written underneath.
THE SECRET WAS WHO SHE BELONGED TO.
My heart raced.
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
“You always say that.”
He handed me the photograph.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression immediately changed.
“Who is it?”
He didn't answer.
The call ended.
Then another came.
Same number.
He rejected it.
“Who keeps calling you?”
“Nobody.”
I stared at him.
“Nobody doesn't call twice.”
He put the phone in his pocket.
“I'll handle it.”
“You don't get to handle everything.”
“I know.”
“Then stop.”
He looked at me.
“Amaria…”
“What?”
“I need you to promise me something.”
“What?”
“If something happens, don't trust anyone in this house.”
I stared at him.
“Not even you?”
His expression became unreadable.
“Especially not me.”
Before I could respond, Grandma appeared at the top of the stairs.
She looked at us.
Then at the photograph in my hand.
Her face went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was on the floor.”
She came downstairs slowly.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Amaria.”
“I want answers.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
She looked at Leo.
“Leave us.”
Leo didn't move.
“I said leave.”
He looked at me.
Then at Grandma.
Finally, he walked away.
I watched him disappear into the hallway.
Then I turned back.
“Tell me everything.”
Grandma sat down.
For several seconds, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered:
“Elena wasn't supposed to have you.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“She was supposed to give you up.”
“Why?”
“Because your birth caused a problem.”
“What problem?”
She looked at me.
“Your father was already married.”
My heart dropped.
“What?”
“Elena had been seeing him secretly.”
“Who?”
Grandma closed her eyes.
“Daniel.”
Leo's father.
I shook my head.
“But Leo's father wasn't my biological father.”
“He wasn't.”
“Then why did you say he was?”
“Because everyone needed to believe it.”
“Why?”
“Because the truth would have destroyed several families.”
I stared at her.
“Who is my real father?”
Grandma didn't answer.
“Please.”
She looked at me.
“He wasn't supposed to know about you.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena was afraid of him.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why was she afraid?”
Grandma looked toward the hallway.
“He wanted you.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
She wiped her eyes.
“Your mother discovered something about him.”
“What?”
“She found documents.”
“What documents?”
“I don't know.”
“Where are they?”
Grandma looked at me.
“Your mother hid them.”
“Where?”
“She said there was only one place nobody would ever search.”
“Where?”
Grandma whispered:
“Inside the house.”
I stared at her.
“Where inside?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You must.”
“Elena never told me.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because she called me that night.”
I froze.
“She called you?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Grandma's voice trembled.
“She said, If anything happens to me, protect my daughter.”
I swallowed.
“What happened next?”
“She stopped talking.”
“Why?”
“I heard someone enter the room.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You didn't ask?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Grandma looked directly at me.
“That I already knew too much.”
---
I left her sitting there.
My head was spinning.
Inside the house.
The documents were somewhere inside the house.
I returned upstairs.
Leo was standing at the end of the hallway.
“You heard everything.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Then you know.”
“No.”
“You know more than you did yesterday.”
“That isn't enough.”
He looked at me.
“What are you going to do?”
“Find the documents.”
He sighed.
“I knew you'd say that.”
“Then help me.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because I've already helped too much.”
I stepped closer.
“You're afraid.”
“Yes.”
That answer surprised me.
“You're actually afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Of my father?”
Leo looked away.
“Of what happens if you find him.”
“Why?”
He was silent.
Then he said:
“Because he doesn't want you to know who you really are.”
“What am I?”
Leo looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“I know what they told me.”
“What?”
“That you're dangerous to the people who buried the truth.”
I frowned.
“How could I possibly be dangerous?”
“Because you are the evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then find out.”
He looked at me.
“I will.”
It was the first time he'd agreed to help me.
But somehow, it frightened me more than his refusal.
---
That night, I searched the study again.
Leo searched the library.
Mom was asleep.
Grandma was in her room.
Uncle hadn't returned.
I pulled books from shelves.
Opened drawers.
Checked cabinets.
Nothing.
Then I noticed something.
One of the old paintings was slightly crooked.
I moved it.
There was a small compartment behind it.
My heart raced.
I opened it.
Inside was a box.
The same black box I'd found before.
But this one was different.
It contained a key.
A letter.
And a small cassette.
I picked up the letter first.
The handwriting was Elena's.
Amaria,
My heart stopped.
I continued reading.
If you're reading this, then they failed to erase everything.
My eyes filled with tears.
There are things about your birth that I could never explain while you were young. Not because I didn't love you. Because loving you meant keeping you alive.
I covered my mouth.
Your father is not the man they named on your certificate.
I already knew that.
But the next sentence made my blood run cold.
And Leo knows more than he has told you.
I stopped breathing.
I read it again.
Don't trust his silence.
I dropped the letter.
A sound came from behind me.
I turned.
Leo stood in the doorway.
He was staring at the letter.
Then at me.
“What did it say?”
I didn't answer.
He walked closer.
“Amaria.”
I held up the letter.
“You knew.”
His face changed.
“You knew my mother wrote this.”
“No.”
“You knew she left something behind.”
“I suspected.”
“You lied.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From me.”
I froze.
“What?”
He looked at me.
His voice was quiet.
“I've known things about your past for years.”
“How many?”
“Since I was eight.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was told never to.”
“By who?”
He looked toward the door.
“My father.”
I stared at him.
“And you listened?”
“I was eight.”
“You're not eight anymore.”
“I know.”
“Then why keep lying?”
His eyes met mine.
“Because every time I tried to tell you, someone reminded me what would happen.”
“What?”
He hesitated.
“They threatened you.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You're still hiding something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He looked down.
Then he said:
“I remember the night Elena disappeared.”
My heart pounded.
“You said you only remembered pieces.”
“I lied.”
“What happened?”
He looked at me.
“I saw your father.”
My blood ran cold.
“Where?”
“Outside the study.”
“Was he alone?”
“No.”
“Who was with him?”
Leo didn't answer.
“Who?”
He looked directly at me.
“You.”
I froze.
“That isn't possible.”
“You were carrying a small red blanket.”
I couldn't breathe.
“I don't remember.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer.
“You were crying.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You kept calling for your mother.”
“Stop.”
“I wanted to help you.”
“Stop.”
“But my father took you.”
I covered my ears.
“Stop!”
Leo fell silent.
I closed my eyes.
And then—
the memory came.
A red blanket.
A hallway.
My mother's voice.
A door.
A silver pendant.
And a man kneeling in front of me.
I opened my eyes.
I knew that face.
I had seen it in the photograph.
My father.
But the memory contained something else.
Someone else standing behind him.
Someone I hadn't noticed before.
I whispered:
“There was another person.”
Leo stared at me.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Try.”
I closed my eyes again.
The memory sharpened.
A woman's voice.
A hand on my shoulder.
A whisper.
“Don't let her remember.”
I opened my eyes.
My heart stopped.
“I know that voice.”
Leo stared at me.
“Whose?”
I looked toward the hallway.
“Mom.”
At that exact moment, the study door opened.
My mother stood there.
She had heard everything.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
And she whispered:
“Amaria…”
I stepped toward her.
“Were you there that night?”
She said nothing.
“Mom.”
She looked at Leo.
Then at me.
Finally, she nodded.
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“With Elena?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Mom began to cry.
“I tried to stop them.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“The people who took you.”
“Who were they?”
She shook her head.
“I can't.”
“You have to.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Her voice broke.
“Because one of them is still in this house.”
I froze.
Leo turned toward the hallway.
Mom whispered:
“And he knows that you remember.”
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