Lena didn't move. Hidden behind the bookcase, her heart thundered in her ears.
He had said her name. Not whispered it. Not questioned it.
He knew she was there.
She rose slowly, gripping the edge of the shelf for support. Her legs trembled as she stepped into the open.
And there he was.
Jay.
Same tousled hair. Same piercing eyes. But something about him was... quieter. Hollow. As if life had carved something out of him and left a shell behind.
"Jay?" Her voice cracked.
He looked at her, really looked. And for a second—just a second—his eyes softened. That same spark. The one she used to see when he smiled at her across candlelight dinners.
But it vanished quickly.
"You shouldn't be here, Lena," he said. "They'll be watching."
She stared at him, unsure if she wanted to cry or scream. "Who? What happened to you? Where have you been?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Then: "I can't explain everything. Not now. Not here."
"You left me," she whispered, tears stinging. "You died, Jay. I buried my heart on that cliff."
"I didn't leave you. I was taken."
Her breath caught.
He stepped closer, hand reaching out—but he stopped himself, as if touching her might hurt them both.
"There's a place. Off the coast. Hidden. They called it The Fold. I thought I volunteered for something to help memory research. It was... more than that."
Her mind reeled. "The Fold? What are you talking about?"
"They wanted to erase. Reprogram. Replace pain with control. We weren't patients—we were property."
His voice broke, and Lena felt the floor tilt beneath her.
"How did you escape?"
"I didn't." His eyes flickered. "I'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't stay away from you."
A noise outside made them both flinch.
Jay's eyes darkened. "We have to go. Now."
Lena hesitated. She had spent months grieving this man, searching for his shadow in her dreams. Now he was here, in the flesh, asking her to run.
"Why should I trust you?" she asked.
"Because I still remember the first time we kissed," he said softly. "You had peanut butter on your lip and tried to act cool about it."
Her heart cracked.
He held out his hand. "There's more you need to see. But we don't have much time."
She reached for him—and froze.
A tiny, silver device was tucked behind his ear. Just barely visible beneath his hair.
She pointed. "What's that?"
Jay looked away. "Part of the price I paid. To keep some of my memories."
He grabbed her hand.
And suddenly they were running.
Down the stairs. Out the side entrance. Into the shadows.
As they vanished into the night, Lena realized one thing for certain:
Whatever happened to Jay, he hadn't come back alone.