The Ghost Bride

Chapter 1

The sterile scent of antiseptic stings my nostrils as I stand beside Edwena's bed. Outside, the Chicago skyline glitters, a cold monument to the Daniels' power, but here, in this quiet room, the only power that matters is the one keeping her alive. Machines hum a monotonous tune, each beep and whir a stark reminder of her fragility. Her skin is pale against the white sheets, almost translucent. I trace the delicate curve of her jaw with my eyes, searching for any sign of life beyond the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Five million dollars. That's what they paid me for this charade. Five million dollars to marry a ghost, to give the Daniels a claim to an heir, to secure their legacy. The irony is bitter, coating my tongue like ash. I, who wanted to build, to create something lasting and good, have become a mere prop in their twisted game. 

My fingers tighten around the crumpled contract in my pocket. The ink feels like a brand, searing into my skin. Loyalty. It's always been my guiding star, the reason I pushed through grueling engineering courses, the reason I worked myself to the bone. And it's the reason I'm here, in this sterile room, married to a woman I've never met, bound by a deal that feels more like a curse.

I remember the desperation in my mother's eyes, the doctor's grim prognosis, the mounting medical bills that threatened to bury us both. The Daniels offered a lifeline, a chance to save her. And I, ever the dutiful son, grabbed it with both hands, consequences be damned.

A soft click breaks the silence. I turn to see a nurse entering the room, her face etched with practiced professionalism. "Mr. Anthonyson," she says, her voice low and respectful. "The cameras are ready. They're waiting for the photo op."

I clench my jaw. A photo op. That's all this is to them. A carefully staged performance to quell the rumors, to reassure their investors, to maintain their grip on power. Edwena is just a pawn, and I, it seems, am the fool who agreed to play the game.

I force a smile, the muscles in my face protesting the unnatural contortion. "Give me a moment," I say, my voice rough. The nurse nods and retreats, leaving me alone with Edwena once more.

I reach for her hand again, my thumb tracing the delicate veins beneath her skin. "I don't know you, Edwena," I whisper, my voice barely audible above the hum of the machines. "But I promise you this: I'll do everything I can to protect you. From them, from this… mess."

A flicker. Just a subtle twitch of her fingers against mine. My heart leaps. Impossible. It must be a trick of the light, a figment of my desperate hope. But then it happens again, a faint pressure, a whisper of connection.

My gaze snaps to her face. Her eyelids flutter. And then, slowly, painstakingly, they begin to open. Her eyes, the color of stormy seas, focus on me. Confusion clouds her gaze, but there's something else there too. A spark. A flicker of defiance.

"Who…" she rasps, her voice weak and breathy. "Who are you?"

My breath catches in my throat. Her eyes are open, and she is looking directly at me, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within their depths. Confusion, yes, but also a flicker of something akin to recognition. Or perhaps it's just the desperate hope mirrored in my own heart.

"My name is Carver," I say, my voice a low rumble, trying to maintain a calm facade despite the frantic hammering of my pulse. "Carver Anthonyson." I pause, searching for the right words, the right way to explain the impossible situation without overwhelming her fragile state. "I'm your… husband."

The word hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken truths and tangled lies. Her brow furrows, a delicate crease forming between her eyes. "Husband?" she whispers, the sound barely audible. "I don't… I don't remember."

A wave of guilt washes over me, sharp and stinging. This is my fault. I'm the interloper, the intruder in her life, the one who agreed to this grotesque charade. "You've been… unwell," I say, choosing my words carefully. "You've been in a coma."

Her eyes widen, the storm within them intensifying. "Coma?" she repeats, her voice laced with disbelief. "How long?"

Before I can answer, the door bursts open, and a man strides into the room, his presence radiating power and authority. He's tall and impeccably dressed, his silver hair slicked back from his forehead, his eyes sharp and assessing. This must be one of the Daniels.

"Edwena!" he exclaims, his voice booming with forced relief. "You're awake! Thank God." He rushes to her bedside, his gaze sweeping over her as if searching for damage. "How are you feeling, darling? Do you remember anything?"

He pointedly ignores me, his eyes cold when they briefly flick over my face. I am nothing more than a ghost in his eyes, a necessary inconvenience to be tolerated and then discarded.

Edwena stares at him, her expression unreadable. "I… I don't know," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "I don't remember anything."

The man, her father perhaps, or an uncle, takes her hand, his touch possessive. "Don't worry, darling," he says, his voice soothing. "Everything will come back to you. You're home now. You're safe."

But even as he speaks the words, I see the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the subtle tightening of his jaw. He's lying. To her, to himself, to everyone. And in that moment, I know that my initial assessment was correct. I am not just here to save my mother, I am here to protect Edwena as well. And I will do everything in my power to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

"Perhaps you should leave us alone for a moment," I say, stepping forward, my voice surprisingly steady. "Edwena needs rest."

The Daniel man stiffens, his eyes hardening into chips of ice. ´Who do you think you are?´ he demands, his voice laced with barely suppressed fury. ´You have no say in this.´ I meet his gaze, refusing to back down. I may be an outsider, a pawn in their game, but I am also Edwena´s husband, at least on paper, and I will not allow them to bully her, not while she is so vulnerable. ´I am her husband,´ I repeat, emphasizing the word with deliberate intention. ´And right now, she needs rest and quiet. I suggest you respect that.´ A tense silence hangs in the air, the unspoken animosity crackling between us like electricity. Edwena watches us, her eyes darting back and forth, her expression a mixture of confusion and fear. I can see that the confrontation is taking a toll on her, her breathing becoming more shallow, her face paling even further. ´Please,´ she whispers, her voice weak.

´Please, stop.´ The Daniel man hesitates, his gaze flickering from me to Edwena, a flicker of something that might be concern crossing his features. He seems to understand that continuing this argument will only harm her further. With a sigh, he relents, though his eyes promise retribution later. ´Fine,´ he says, his voice tight. ´But I will be back. And we will have a long talk about your… role in all of this, Mr. Anthonyson.´ He throws me one last venomous look before turning to Edwena, forcing a smile. ´Get some rest, darling. I´ll be back to check on you later.´ He brushes a kiss against her forehead, then strides out of the room, leaving me alone with Edwena once more. The silence that descends is heavy, charged with unspoken questions and simmering tension.

I turn to Edwena, my heart aching for her. She looks lost and bewildered, like a child stranded in a strange and unfamiliar place. ´Are you alright?´ I ask, my voice soft with concern. She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. ´I don´t understand,´ she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. ´Who are you? Why are you calling me your wife? What´s going on?´ I kneel beside her bed, taking her hand in mine. Her skin is cool and clammy, her grip weak. ´It´s a long story,´ I say, my voice gentle.

´And I promise I´ll explain everything to you. But right now, you need to rest. You need to regain your strength.´ She looks at me, her eyes searching mine, as if trying to discern the truth from the lies. And in that moment, I realize that I can´t just stand by and watch her be manipulated and controlled by her family. I have to help her, not just because it´s the right thing to do, but because something about her, about her vulnerability and her strength, has already begun to captivate me. I clear my throat and try a small joke to break the tension. ´Don´t worry I´m not the kind of man who forces a woman to marry him, there has to be at least a car and a jet ski involved if I were to kidnap someone´. A small smile appears in her face.

A faint smile graces her lips, a glimmer of amusement amidst the confusion and fear. It's a fragile thing, easily extinguished, but it's there nonetheless, a spark of the woman she once was, the woman she might be again. ´A car and a jet ski?´ she whispers, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness. ´You have expensive taste, Mr… Anthonyson, was it?´

´Just Carver,´ I say, returning her smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest at her response. ´And only if you promise not to tell my mother about the jet ski. She thinks they´re dangerous.´

Her smile widens slightly, a genuine curve that transforms her face, erasing the weariness and uncertainty, if only for a moment. In that instant, I see a glimpse of the vibrant, intelligent woman she must have been before the coma, before the Daniels, before me.

´I won´t tell,´ she says, her eyes sparkling with a newfound light. ´My lips are sealed.´

We share a moment of comfortable silence, the tension in the room easing slightly, replaced by a fragile sense of connection. It´s a small thing, a shared joke, a stolen smile, but it feels significant, a crack in the wall that separates us, a flicker of hope in the darkness.

But the moment is fleeting. Her smile fades, her brow furrows, and the confusion returns, clouding her eyes once more.

´Carver,´ she says, her voice soft and questioning. ´What exactly is going on? Why did that man call you my husband? Am I really married?´

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the difficult conversation that lies ahead. I can´t sugarcoat the truth, not entirely, but I can try to explain it in a way that won´t overwhelm her, that won´t shatter the fragile trust that´s beginning to form between us.

´It´s complicated,´ I say, choosing my words carefully. ´You are… technically… married. To me. But it´s not what you think. It was an arrangement. A deal.´

I pause, watching her reaction, gauging her ability to process the information. Her eyes are wide with disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and hurt.

´A deal?´ she repeats, her voice barely a whisper. ´What kind of deal?´

´Your family… they needed someone to marry you,´ I explain, my voice low and hesitant. ´Someone to… secure their claim to your inheritance. And I… I needed the money. My mother was sick. I had no other choice.´

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with shame and regret. I hate myself for admitting it, for revealing the depths of my desperation, but I owe her the truth, at least as much as she can handle right now.

´So you married me for money?´ she asks, her voice trembling with emotion.

I flinch at the accusation, the truth of it cutting deep. ´It wasn´t like that,´ I protest, but the words sound hollow, even to my own ears. ´I didn´t know you. You were in a coma. I didn´t… I didn´t think you would ever wake up.´

A tear escapes her eye, tracing a lonely path down her pale cheek. I can't bear to see her cry. I need to do something.

I reach out, my hand hovering hesitantly over hers, unsure if I have the right to touch her, to offer comfort. "Edwena," I say softly, my voice filled with remorse. "Please, let me explain. It was a terrible situation. My mother was dying, and your family… they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. But it’s not how you think. I would never… I would never hurt you intentionally."

I pull a chair closer to the bed and sit, placing both hands on my knees, trying to project a sense of openness and honesty. "The money, it was supposed to be a transaction, a business arrangement. I was meant to be a placeholder, someone to fulfill a legal requirement. No one expected you to wake up. Especially not me."

Her gaze is fixed on me, searching, analyzing. I can see the gears turning in her mind as she tries to reconcile the information I’m giving her with the fragmented memories she possesses. "So what happens now?" she asks, her voice barely audible. "Am I trapped? Am I your prisoner?"

"No," I say firmly, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. You’re not trapped, and you’re definitely not my prisoner. The contract… the marriage… it was all based on a lie. You were incapacitated, unable to consent. It’s not valid. I want to help you, Edwena. I want to help you regain your life, your memories, your freedom."

I watch as a flicker of hope ignites in her eyes, quickly followed by suspicion. "Why?" she asks, her voice laced with skepticism. "Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?"

It’s a fair question, one I’ve been wrestling with myself. At first, it was about the money, about saving my mother. But now… now it’s about her. About the injustice of her situation, about the connection I feel growing between us.

"At first, it was about the money," I admit, honesty is the only way. "But things have changed. I’ve seen how your family operates, how they’ve manipulated you. And I’ve seen you, the woman beneath the surface. I believe you deserve the truth, and you deserve to be free."

I lean closer, my eyes locking with hers. "I know this is a lot to take in, Edwena. But trust me, please. I’m on your side. I’m here to help you uncover the truth, no matter how difficult or dangerous it may be." I can see the uncertainty still swirling in her eyes, but I also see a spark of something else: a willingness to believe, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she can trust me.

Her hand lies limp on the pristine white sheet. I gently take it in mine, my thumb stroking her skin, and feel a slight tremor run through her.

Chapter 2

The tremor in her hand intensifies, and I tighten my grip slightly, offering reassurance, hoping she can feel the sincerity in my touch. ´What kind of truth are we talking about, Carver?´ she asks, her voice laced with a newfound determination. ´What secrets are my family hiding?´ I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the story I'm about to tell, a story of manipulation, deceit, and betrayal. ´Your coma… it wasn’t an accident,´ I say, choosing my words carefully. ´I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know your family was involved. They wanted you out of the picture, at least temporarily.´ Her eyes widen in disbelief, her grip tightening on my hand. ´That’s… that’s insane,´ she whispers, her voice trembling. ´My own family? Why would they do that?´ ´That’s what we need to find out,´ I reply, my voice low and serious.

´There’s something they’re hiding, something that made them want you silenced. It could be about your inheritance, about control of the family business, or something else entirely. We need to dig deeper, to uncover the truth, no matter how painful it may be.´ ´But how?´ she asks, her voice filled with desperation. ´I don’t even remember my own life. I don’t know who to trust.´ ´You can trust me,´ I say, my eyes locking with hers. ´I know it’s hard, but I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll be your guide, your protector, your ally. We’ll figure this out together.´ I pause, considering my next words. ´First, we need to get you out of this hospital, away from your family’s influence.

They’re watching you, controlling every aspect of your care. We need to find a safe place where you can recover, where you can start to rebuild your memories without their interference.´ ´And where would that be?´ she asks, her brow furrowed. ´I have a place,´ I say, a small apartment I used to share with my mother. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s safe, and it’s far away from the gilded cage of the Daniel family. ´It’s not much, but it’s private, and it’s secure. We can go there, just you and me, and start piecing things together.´ She looks at me, her eyes searching, questioning. I can see the fear and uncertainty battling with a flicker of hope and trust. I know I’m asking her to take a leap of faith, to put her life in my hands. But I also know that it’s the only way she’ll ever be free.

After a long moment of silence, she nods slowly, her gaze unwavering. ´Okay, Carver,´ she says, her voice barely a whisper. ´I trust you. Let’s do it. Let’s get out of here.´ A surge of relief washes over me, followed by a renewed sense of determination. I squeeze her hand gently, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

´Alright, here is the plan,´ I say, my mind racing, assessing all possible risks. ´We need to be careful. Your family has eyes everywhere. We can't just walk out of here.´ I get up from the chair and walk towards the door, peeking out into the hallway. It seems deserted for the moment, but I know that could change in an instant. ´I’ll need to create a diversion, something to distract the staff and buy us some time. Do you think you can walk?´ I ask, turning back to Edwena. She nods slowly, wincing slightly as she shifts in the bed.

´I think so, but I’m a little weak.´ ´Okay, we’ll take it slow. I'll help you. First, we need to get you out of that hospital gown and into something less conspicuous.´ I rummage through the small closet, finding a set of my own clothes that I had brought for a possible change. They’re not exactly stylish, but they’re better than nothing. ´Here, put these on,´ I say, handing her the clothes. ´I’ll turn around to give you some privacy. Let me know if you need help.´ While she changes, I scan the room for anything that might be useful. My gaze falls on the medical chart hanging at the end of the bed.

I quickly flip through it, noting the medications she’s been given, the doctor’s notes, and the lab results. Nothing seems particularly out of the ordinary, but I take a mental note of everything, knowing that even the smallest detail could be important. Once Edwena is dressed, I help her out of the bed, supporting her as she takes her first tentative steps. She’s unsteady on her feet, but she’s determined to keep going. ´Okay, let’s do this,´ I say, my voice filled with encouragement. ´I’m going to go create that diversion. You stay here and wait for my signal. When you hear it, come out into the hallway and head towards the fire exit at the end of the corridor.

I’ll meet you there.´ I squeeze her hand once more, then turn and head towards the door. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’m about to do. This is it. There’s no turning back now. I step out into the hallway, my mind focused on the task ahead, ready to do whatever it takes to get Edwena out of here and away from her family’s clutches. My heart pounds in my chest, as the adrenaline courses through my veins, and I know that the next few minutes will determine everything.

I walk purposefully towards the nurse’s station, putting on my best concerned-citizen act. When I reach the desk, I lean in conspiratorially, my voice low and urgent. ´Excuse me, nurse, I think there’s something wrong with one of the patients,´ I say, feigning worry. ´In room 312, the elderly man seems to be in distress. He’s been calling out for help, but no one seems to be answering.´ The nurse looks up from her paperwork, her expression a mixture of annoyance and concern. ´Room 312? I’ll check on it right away.´ She gets up from her chair and heads down the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet corridor.

As soon as she’s out of sight, I grab a nearby fire extinguisher and yank it off the wall. I pull the pin and aim it at the hallway, unleashing a cloud of white foam that quickly fills the space, creating a thick fog that obscures everything. The fire alarm blares to life, its shrill sound piercing the air, adding to the chaos. Nurses and doctors come running from all directions, their voices filled with panic and confusion. Now is my chance. I sprint back to Edwena’s room, my heart pounding in my chest. When I reach the door, I throw it open and give her the signal: a quick, sharp whistle.

She emerges from the room, her eyes wide with fear and determination. I grab her hand and pull her along, guiding her through the smoke-filled hallway towards the fire exit. We move quickly, dodging panicked staff and bewildered patients, our footsteps muffled by the chaos. The fire exit is at the end of the corridor, a bright red door that promises freedom. We reach it in what feels like an eternity, and I push it open, leading Edwena down the stairwell. The stairwell is dimly lit and echoes with the sound of our footsteps. We descend quickly, taking the stairs two at a time, our breath coming in ragged gasps.

When we finally reach the ground floor, I push open the door to the outside world, and we emerge into the cool night air. I scan our surroundings, making sure the coast is clear. The hospital is in a state of pandemonium, with sirens wailing and flashing lights illuminating the scene. No one seems to notice us as we slip away into the darkness. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that we’ve made it, at least for now. I know the Daniel family will hunt us to the ends of the earth, but for this moment, we are free. I take Edwena´s hand and we start to run, our footsteps pounding on the pavement as we disappear into the night.

I don't stop running until the hospital is a distant glow behind us. My lungs burn and my legs ache, but the adrenaline keeps me going. Edwena, surprisingly, keeps pace, her hand clasped tightly in mine. We reach a dimly lit street, the kind where shadows dance and secrets linger. I slow to a walk, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

"We need to get somewhere safe," I say, my voice hoarse. "Somewhere they won't look for us."

Edwena nods, her eyes wide and uncertain. "Where can we go?"

I think for a moment, my mind racing. I can't take her to my apartment – they'll be watching it. I don't have any friends I can trust with this. Then, an idea sparks in my mind.

"My mother," I say. "She lives in a small cottage outside the city. It's secluded, and they won't expect us to go there."

Edwena looks at me, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "Okay," she says. "Let's go."

We walk for what feels like hours, sticking to back streets and alleyways, avoiding the main roads where we might be spotted. Finally, we reach a bus stop. I check the schedule, relief washing over me as I see a bus heading in the direction of my mother's cottage is due to arrive in a few minutes.

We board the bus, taking seats in the back, away from prying eyes. The ride is long and uneventful, the rhythmic hum of the engine lulling Edwena into a fitful sleep. I watch her, my heart aching with a mixture of guilt and protectiveness. She's been through so much, and it's all because of me.

When we finally arrive at our stop, the sky is beginning to lighten. We step off the bus and walk the remaining distance to my mother's cottage, a small, weathered building nestled in a grove of trees. I knock on the door, my heart pounding in my chest.

The door creaks open, and my mother stands there, her eyes widening in surprise. "Carver?" she says, her voice filled with disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Before I can answer, she notices Edwena standing behind me. Her gaze softens. I quickly explain everything: the contract, the Daniels, Edwena's amnesia, and our escape. My mother listens patiently, her expression growing more concerned with each word.

When I finish, she pulls us both inside, her arm around my shoulder. "You did the right thing, son," she says. "We'll figure this out together."

The cottage is small but cozy, filled with the scent of lavender and old books. My mother makes us tea and toast, and we sit at the kitchen table, talking in hushed tones. Edwena seems to relax in the warm, welcoming atmosphere, her shoulders losing some of their tension. For the first time since we left the hospital, I feel a sense of hope. We are safe, at least for now. And maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to build a new life together, far away from the clutches of the Daniel family.

My mother insists Edwena takes her room, a bright space overlooking the garden. I settle for the old sofa in the living room, but I don't mind. Knowing Edwena is resting comfortably brings me a strange sense of peace. The next morning, the smell of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee wakes me. I find my mother in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepares breakfast. Edwena is already up, sitting at the table, looking out the window. She seems lost in thought. "Good morning," I say, my voice still raspy with sleep. My mother turns, a warm smile on her face. "Morning, Carver. Sleep well?" "Like a log," I reply, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

Edwena turns her head, offering a small, hesitant smile. "Good morning," she echoes softly. After breakfast, I know we need to discuss a plan. We can't stay here forever. The Daniels will find us eventually. "We need to figure out what to do next," I say, my voice serious. "We can't just hide here." Edwena nods, her expression thoughtful. "I agree. I need to know who I am, what happened to me. I can't just run forever." My mother places a comforting hand on Edwena's. "We'll help you, dear.

We'll do whatever we can." I propose we start by trying to find out more about Edwena's past. Maybe there's something in her life before the coma that can give us a clue. "Maybe there's a friend, a colleague, someone who knows something," I say. "Someone the Daniels didn't manage to silence." Edwena frowns, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I don't remember anything," she says, her voice filled with frustration. "It's like my mind is a blank slate." I take her hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure it out," I say. "We'll start with what we know: the Daniel family. They're powerful, ruthless, and they're hiding something. We need to find out what it is." We spend the rest of the day researching the Daniel family, scouring the internet for any information we can find. We learn about their vast business empire, their philanthropic endeavors, and their connections to various political figures.

But we find nothing about Edwena's personal life, nothing about her friends or colleagues. It's as if she didn't exist before her marriage to me. As the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the cottage, I feel a sense of frustration building within me. We're running out of time, and we're no closer to finding the truth. I look at Edwena, her face pale and drawn with exhaustion, and I know I can't give up. I have to protect her, no matter what it takes. I decide to reach out to an old acquaintance from my college days. A guy called Todd, who is now a journalist. He is always sniffing for things that aren't supposed to be public. Maybe he can help.

Chapter 3

I find Todd's number with some effort. It's been years since we last spoke. Hesitantly, I dial, the phone ringing several times before he answers. "Yeah, hello?" he says, his voice a little rough. "Todd, it's Carver Anthonyson. From college?" There's a pause. "Carver? Wow, man, long time no see! What's up?" I explain my situation to Todd, carefully omitting certain details to protect Edwena. I tell him about my marriage to her, her amnesia, and my suspicions about the Daniel family. I ask him if he can dig up anything on them, anything that might help us understand what's going on. Todd listens intently, asking questions here and there. When I finish, he sighs. "The Daniels, huh? Those guys are untouchable, Carver. But I'll see what I can do. No promises, though." I feel a surge of hope. "Thanks, Todd. I owe you one." "Don't mention it," he says. "Just be careful, Carver. You're playing with fire."

I hang up the phone, feeling a little lighter, but still anxious. I turn to see Edwena watching me, her expression unreadable. "Who was that?" she asks. "An old friend," I reply. "He's a journalist. I asked him to look into the Daniel family." Edwena nods slowly. "Do you think he'll find anything?" I shrug. "I don't know. But it's worth a shot."

The next few days pass in a blur of anxiety and anticipation. We stay close to the cottage, venturing out only when necessary. My mother does her best to keep our spirits up, but I can see the worry etched on her face. Edwena spends her time reading, wandering in the garden, and trying to piece together fragments of her lost memories. Sometimes, she'll have flashes of images, sounds, and emotions, but they're fleeting and indistinct, leaving her frustrated and confused. One evening, as we're sitting down to dinner, my phone rings. It's Todd. I excuse myself and take the call outside, my heart pounding in my chest. "Carver," Todd says, his voice urgent. "I've got something. It's not much, but it might be a start." He tells me that he's found some inconsistencies in the Daniels' financial records, some questionable transactions that could indicate illegal activity. He also mentions a rumor about a secret research facility owned by the family, located somewhere in the mountains. "I couldn't confirm the facility," Todd says, "but the rumor has been circulating for years.

It's said they conduct experiments there, something about genetics." A chill runs down my spine. "Genetics?" I say. "What kind of experiments?" Todd sighs. "I don't know, Carver. But whatever it is, it's not good." He is about to say something more when I hear a noise behind me. I turn around, my eyes widening in shock. Edwena is standing there, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror. I can tell she heard everything I said and I feel terrible for exposing her to this new information. This new chapter that we must now confront.

I quickly end the call with Todd, a wave of panic washing over me. I turn my full attention to Edwena, my voice soft and soothing. "Edwena, it's okay. I can explain." She takes a step back, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. "Experiments? Genetics? What does that even mean, Carver? What did they do to me?" I reach out to take her hand, but she flinches away from my touch. "They didn't do anything to you, Edwena. At least, I don't think they did.

But we're going to find out, I promise you that." My mother comes rushing out of the cottage, her face etched with worry. "What's going on? Is everything alright?" I quickly fill her in on what Todd told me, and the effect it had on Edwena. My mother wraps her arms around Edwena, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "There, there, dear. Don't you worry. We'll get to the bottom of this."

I know that Edwena is still in shock, but I also know that she deserves to know the truth, no matter how painful it may be. "Edwena," I say, my voice gentle but firm. "I think we need to go to that research facility. It's the only way we're going to find out what happened to you." She pulls away from my mother, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination.

"You really think we should? It could be dangerous." I nod. "I know it's dangerous, but we can't keep running. We need to face them, to find out what they're hiding. And maybe, just maybe, we can stop them from hurting anyone else." Edwena takes a deep breath, her shoulders straightening. "Okay," she says. "Let's do it." We spend the next day preparing for our trip to the mountains. I gather supplies, including food, water, and a first-aid kit. My mother packs us warm clothes, knowing that the mountain air can be unforgiving. I contact Todd again, asking him for more information about the location of the research facility.

He hesitates, warning me about the risks involved. But I'm determined, and eventually, he gives me a rough estimate of its location, based on the rumors he's heard. As we prepare to leave, I look at Edwena, her face pale but resolute. I know that this is going to be the most dangerous thing we've ever done, but I also know that we're doing it for the right reasons. We're doing it for Edwena, for her past, for her future. And maybe, just maybe, we're doing it for ourselves. We say goodbye to my mother, promising to be careful and to keep in touch as much as possible. Then, we climb into my old truck and set off towards the mountains, our hearts filled with a mixture of hope and dread. The road ahead is long and uncertain, but we're together, and that's all that matters. I feel that with every turn, we close in on something that should have stayed secret.

The drive to the mountains is long and arduous. I keep glancing at Edwena, noticing the way her brow furrows as she stares out the window. The closer we get to our destination, the more withdrawn she becomes. The scenery transforms from rolling green hills to dense forests, and the air grows noticeably colder. I reach over and turn up the heat in the truck, hoping to offer her some comfort.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

She turns to me, her eyes filled with a profound sadness. "I don't know, Carver. I just... I have this feeling, like something terrible happened to me there. Like I'm walking into a nightmare."

I take her hand in mine, squeezing it gently. "I know it's scary, but we're doing this together. I won't let anything happen to you, Edwena. I promise."

She manages a weak smile, her fingers interlacing with mine. "Thank you, Carver. For everything."

As we drive deeper into the mountains, the road becomes increasingly treacherous. The asphalt is cracked and potholed, and there are several points where the road narrows precariously along steep cliffs. I have to focus all my attention on navigating the vehicle, but I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally reach the coordinates that Todd gave me. There's nothing here but a dense forest, with no sign of any buildings or structures. I pull the truck over to the side of the road and turn off the engine. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Edwena asks, her voice laced with doubt.

I check the GPS again, comparing the coordinates to the map that Todd provided. "Yeah, this is it. According to this, the research facility should be somewhere nearby."

We get out of the truck and begin to explore the surrounding area. The forest is dark and foreboding, with towering trees that block out most of the sunlight. The ground is covered in a thick layer of leaves and fallen branches, making it difficult to navigate. After a few minutes of searching, I spot something out of the corner of my eye. It's a faint trail, barely visible beneath the undergrowth.

"Edwena, look," I say, pointing to the trail. "I think this might lead somewhere."

We follow the trail deeper into the forest, pushing our way through thick brush and climbing over fallen logs. The trail winds its way through the trees, gradually ascending the mountainside. After about half an hour of hiking, we come to a clearing. And there, nestled in the center of the clearing, is a large, nondescript building. It's made of concrete and steel, with no windows and only a single, heavy-looking door. There are no signs or markings to indicate what the building is, but I know in my gut that this is it. The Daniel family's secret research facility. A place where I'm certain that dark secrets lie buried.

The sight of the building sends a chill down my spine. It radiates an unsettling aura, a sense of coldness and inhumanity that seeps into the very air around it. Edwena shivers beside me, her face pale and drawn. ´This is it, isn´t it?´ she whispers, her voice barely audible. I nod, my gaze fixed on the imposing structure. ´Yeah, this is it. The place where they stole your memories, your life.´ I step forward, my hand instinctively reaching for hers. Her skin is cold to the touch, but her grip is firm, resolute. We approach the building cautiously, our footsteps muffled by the soft earth. As we get closer, I notice that the door is made of thick steel, reinforced with heavy bolts and a sophisticated locking mechanism.

There are no windows, no cameras, no obvious signs of security. But I know that we´re being watched, that someone inside is aware of our presence. I run my hand along the cold metal of the door, searching for a way in. The locking mechanism looks complex, beyond my ability to pick or bypass without the right tools. I step back, surveying the building for any other possible entry points. There´s a small vent near the roof, but it´s too high to reach without a ladder. The walls are solid concrete, with no cracks or openings. It´s clear that the Daniels didn´t want anyone getting inside this place. I turn to Edwena, my mind racing. ´We need to find a way in,´ I say, my voice urgent.

´There has to be a weakness, a vulnerability.´ Edwena looks around the clearing, her eyes scanning the perimeter. She stops, her gaze fixed on a patch of overgrown vegetation near the side of the building. ´What about that?´ she asks, pointing to the vegetation. ´Maybe there´s something hidden there.´ I follow her gaze and see a thick tangle of vines and bushes, obscuring a section of the wall. I approach the vegetation cautiously, pulling back the vines to reveal the concrete beneath. And then, I see it. A small, almost imperceptible crack in the wall, running vertically from the ground to the roof. It´s barely wide enough to fit my fingers into, but it´s there. A flaw in the structure, a sign of weakness. ´Edwena, I think I´ve found something,´ I say, my voice filled with excitement.

´It´s not much, but it´s a start.´ I pull out my pocketknife and begin to widen the crack, carefully chipping away at the concrete. The work is slow and painstaking, but I´m determined to create an opening, a way into the building. As I work, I can feel Edwena´s eyes on me, her presence a source of strength and encouragement. She doesn´t say anything, but I know that she believes in me, that she trusts me to get us through this. After what feels like hours, I finally manage to widen the crack enough to squeeze through. It´s a tight fit, but I manage to force my way inside. I turn back to Edwena, my heart pounding with anticipation. ´Come on,´ I say, my voice barely above a whisper. ´Let´s see what secrets this place is hiding.´ I brace myself, ready to step into the unknown, ready to face whatever dangers lie ahead. Because I know that on the other side of that wall, the truth about Edwena´s past is waiting to be uncovered.

I squeeze through the narrow opening, my body scraping against the rough concrete. I emerge into a dark, musty corridor. The air is thick with the smell of dust, chemicals, and something else... something indefinable, yet deeply unsettling. I reach back and help Edwena through the opening, her hands trembling as she joins me in the darkness.

"Stay close," I whisper, pulling out my phone and activating the flashlight. The beam cuts through the darkness, illuminating a narrow corridor lined with metal doors. There are no windows, no markings, no signs of life. The silence is absolute, broken only by the sound of our breathing.

We move cautiously down the corridor, our footsteps echoing eerily in the confined space. I try each of the doors, but they're all locked, seemingly impenetrable. As we reach the end of the corridor, we come to a T-junction. To the left, the corridor continues into the darkness. To the right, there's a single door, slightly ajar, with a faint light spilling out from within.

"Which way?" Edwena whispers, her voice laced with apprehension.

I hesitate, weighing our options. The darkness to the left is unknown, potentially dangerous. The light to the right suggests a room, possibly occupied. But it also represents a potential source of information, a chance to uncover the secrets of this place.

"Let's check the room," I say, my voice firm. "But be ready for anything."

I grip my pocketknife tightly, my heart pounding in my chest. I push the door open wider, and we step into the room. It's a small, sterile laboratory, filled with gleaming metal equipment, glass beakers, and complex machinery. A single fluorescent light flickers overhead, casting long, distorted shadows.

The room is empty, but the air is thick with the smell of chemicals and electricity. On a nearby table, there's a computer, its screen illuminated with complex graphs and data. A half-empty coffee cup sits beside it, suggesting that someone was recently working here.

I approach the computer cautiously, my eyes scanning the screen. The data is complex and technical, beyond my understanding. But I notice a file name, highlighted in bold: "Project: Memory."

My blood runs cold. This is it. This is the key to unlocking Edwena's past.

I reach out and click on the file, and the screen flickers, revealing a series of images and text. The images are grainy and distorted, but I can make out human figures, strapped to beds, their faces contorted in pain. The text is technical and scientific, filled with jargon I don't understand. But one word stands out, repeated over and over again: "Edwena."

I turn to Edwena, my face pale with shock. "Edwena," I say, my voice trembling. "I think... I think this is about you."

As I speak, a sudden alarm blares through the building, shattering the silence. Red lights flash, and a voice booms over the intercom: "Intruder alert. Lockdown initiated."

My heart leaps into my throat. We've been discovered. And now, we're trapped. I grab Edwena's hand, my mind racing. "We need to get out of here," I say, my voice urgent. "Now."

But as we turn to leave, the door slams shut, and a heavy bolt slides into place. We're locked in. And I know, with a sickening certainty, that we're not alone. There are people in this building, people who are willing to do anything to protect their secrets. And they're coming for us.

Chapter 4

Panic floods my veins, but I force myself to stay calm. Edwena looks at me, her eyes wide with terror. I squeeze her hand, trying to reassure her, but I know she can feel my fear. "Think, Carver, think!" I mutter to myself. I glance around the lab, desperately searching for a way out, a weapon, anything that can help us. The room is sterile and bare, offering no immediate solutions. My eyes land on the computer screen, still displaying the file about Project: Memory. If they went to the lengths of experimenting with her memory, this lab must be full of information.

"The file," I say, pointing at the computer. "There has to be something in there that can help us."

Edwena nods, her fear momentarily overshadowed by determination. She rushes to the computer and starts scrolling through the document, her fingers flying across the keyboard. I stand guard by the door, my pocketknife held at the ready, listening for any sound of approaching footsteps. The alarm continues to blare, its deafening wail amplifying the sense of urgency.

Edwena suddenly gasps, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Carver, look at this!" she exclaims, pointing at a diagram on the screen. "It's a schematic of the building. There's a maintenance tunnel behind this wall!"

Hope surges through me. A way out. I study the diagram, tracing the path of the tunnel with my finger. It leads to an emergency exit on the other side of the facility. "Can you print it?" I ask, my voice filled with anticipation.

She nods, hitting the print button. The printer whirs to life, spitting out a copy of the schematic. I snatch it from the tray, my eyes scanning the details. According to the diagram, the entrance to the tunnel is hidden behind a panel in the wall.

"Okay, let's find it," I say, grabbing Edwena's hand. We start searching the walls, running our hands along the smooth metal surfaces, feeling for any sign of a hidden panel. The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. The alarm seems to grow louder, more menacing. Just when I'm about to lose hope, Edwena cries out, "I found it!"

She's standing by a section of the wall, her fingers pressed against a barely visible seam. I rush to her side and examine the panel. It's almost perfectly flush with the wall, but I can see a faint outline, a subtle difference in texture. I slide the blade of my pocketknife into the seam and pry gently. The panel pops open, revealing a dark, narrow opening. "This is it," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let's go."

I take one last look around the lab, my heart pounding in my chest. We have no idea what awaits us in the tunnel, but anything is better than staying here, waiting to be captured. I squeeze through the opening, Edwena following close behind. The tunnel is cramped and dark, the air thick with dust and the smell of damp earth. We crawl forward on our hands and knees, our only light coming from my phone. I know that we are now one step closer to the truth, and one step closer to freedom.

The tunnel twists and turns, the low ceiling forcing us to hunch over, our muscles aching with the strain. The air is thick and stale, making it difficult to breathe. Dust motes dance in the beam of my flashlight, creating an eerie, otherworldly atmosphere. We continue to crawl, our progress slow and arduous. The silence is broken only by the sound of our ragged breathing and the occasional scuttling of unseen creatures. I try to focus on the schematic, trying to anticipate the turns and junctions ahead. But the darkness and the claustrophobic confines of the tunnel are disorienting, making it difficult to maintain my bearings. I glance back at Edwena, her face pale and streaked with dirt. Her eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of fear, but also a spark of determination.

I offer her a reassuring smile, hoping to bolster her spirits. "Almost there," I say, my voice hoarse. "Just a little further." We continue to crawl, our bodies growing increasingly weary. The tunnel seems to stretch on forever, an endless labyrinth of darkness and despair. Just when I think I can't take it anymore, I see a faint glimmer of light ahead. Hope surges through me, revitalizing my weary limbs. "Edwena, look!" I exclaim, pointing towards the light. "We're almost there!" We quicken our pace, crawling faster and faster, our hearts pounding with anticipation. As we draw closer to the light, the tunnel begins to widen, the ceiling rising above our heads.

We finally reach the end of the tunnel and emerge into a small, dimly lit room. The room is bare and utilitarian, with concrete walls and a metal door. A single light bulb flickers overhead, casting long, distorted shadows. I consult the schematic, my eyes scanning the layout of the room. According to the diagram, the door leads to an emergency exit. "This is it," I say, my voice trembling with excitement. "Let's get out of here." I approach the door cautiously, my hand reaching for the handle. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever awaits us on the other side. I turn the handle and push the door open, and we step out into the night.

The cold mountain air hits us like a wave, filling our lungs and invigorating our senses. We're standing in a small clearing, surrounded by towering pine trees. The sky is dark and clear, the stars twinkling like diamonds in the vast expanse of space. In the distance, I can see the lights of the town below, a beacon of hope in the darkness. We made it. We escaped. But I know that our journey is far from over. The people who run this facility will not let us go easily. We are running to survive.

I pull Edwena close, my arm protectively around her shoulders. We stand there for a moment, catching our breath and taking in the beauty of the night. The silence is broken only by the chirping of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the wind. I know we can't stay here for long. They'll be searching for us. We need to find a safe place to hide, a place where we can regroup and plan our next move. I scan the surrounding forest, my eyes searching for any sign of shelter. The trees are dense and imposing, offering plenty of cover. But I also know that the forest can be a dangerous place, filled with unseen predators and hidden dangers. ´We need to get off this mountain,´ I say, my voice firm. ´They'll be watching the roads. We need to find another way down.´ Edwena nods, her eyes filled with determination.

´What about the hiking trails?´ she suggests. ´I remember seeing signs for hiking trails near the town.´ I consider her suggestion. The hiking trails would be less obvious than the roads, but they would also be more difficult to navigate, especially in the dark. But we don't have many options. ´Okay,´ I say. ´Let's try the hiking trails. But we need to be careful. They could be anywhere.´ We start walking, following a narrow path that leads into the forest. The path is rocky and uneven, making it difficult to maintain our footing. The darkness is oppressive, broken only by the faint beam of my flashlight. We walk in silence, our senses on high alert, listening for any sign of pursuit. After what feels like an eternity, we come to a fork in the path.

Two trails diverge, each leading in a different direction. I consult the schematic, but it doesn't show any details of the hiking trails. We have no way of knowing which path leads to the town. ´Which way do we go?´ Edwena asks, her voice filled with uncertainty. I hesitate, weighing our options. If we choose the wrong path, we could end up lost in the wilderness, or worse, walking straight into the arms of our pursuers. But we can't stay here forever. We need to make a decision. I look at Edwena, her eyes searching mine for guidance. I know she's relying on me to keep her safe. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the forest.

The wind whispers through the trees, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. And then, I hear something else. A faint sound, carried on the breeze. The sound of running water. ´That way,´ I say, pointing to the path on the right. ´I hear water. There must be a stream or a river nearby. And rivers usually lead to civilization.´ We start walking down the path, our hopes rising with each step.

I guide Edwena along the path, the sound of rushing water growing louder with each step. The terrain is uneven, roots and rocks threatening to trip us, but the promise of a water source keeps us moving. The air feels cooler here, damper, and the scent of moss hangs heavy. My flashlight beam dances through the trees, revealing glimpses of ferns and damp earth. We walk in silence, our focus narrowed to the path ahead, our ears straining for any sound that doesn't belong.

Finally, we emerge from the dense foliage into a small clearing. A narrow stream gushes over smooth stones, cascading into a small pool before disappearing back into the woods. The moonlight reflects off the water's surface, creating an ethereal glow.

"Water," Edwena whispers, her voice filled with relief. She kneels by the stream, cupping her hands and bringing the cool water to her lips. I watch her, my heart aching with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness. She looks so fragile, yet she's shown incredible resilience throughout this ordeal.

I kneel beside her and take a drink, the water refreshing and invigorating. We drink our fill, then splash some on our faces, washing away the grime and weariness of the day.

"We should follow the stream," I say, pointing in the direction of the flowing water. "It'll likely lead us to a larger river, and that could take us closer to civilization."

Edwena nods in agreement. "Sounds like a plan. But let's rest for a few minutes first. My legs are killing me."

We find a relatively dry spot beneath a large tree and settle down, leaning against its trunk for support. The silence of the forest is broken only by the sound of the stream and our own breathing.

"Carver," Edwena says softly, breaking the silence. "Thank you."

I turn to her, my eyebrows raised in question. "For what?"

"For everything," she replies, her eyes meeting mine. "For saving me, for protecting me, for believing in me when I didn't even believe in myself."

My heart swells at her words. I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it gently. "You would do the same for me."

She smiles, a small, fragile smile that warms me from the inside out. "I hope I get the chance to prove it."

We sit in silence for a few moments longer, our hands intertwined, our thoughts lost in the beauty and mystery of the night. The stream gurgles, beckoning us forward, and I know we must continue our journey.

I stand up, pulling Edwena to her feet. "Ready?" I ask.

She nods, her eyes filled with determination. "Ready."

We begin to follow the stream, our path lit by the moon and the beam of my flashlight, each step carrying us further away from the mountain and closer to an uncertain future.

The stream twists and turns, guiding us deeper into the forest. The trees grow taller here, their branches interlocking to form a dense canopy overhead, blocking out most of the moonlight. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the darkness feels almost palpable. I keep my flashlight beam focused on the path ahead, scanning for any obstacles or dangers. We walk in silence, our steps measured and deliberate, our senses on high alert. After what seems like hours, the stream begins to widen, its gentle gurgle growing into a rushing roar. The trees thin out, and we emerge into a wider valley, where the stream empties into a fast-flowing river. The river is wide and deep, its surface reflecting the faint glow of the sky. On the opposite bank, I can make out the faint glimmer of lights, suggesting that we are getting closer to civilization. ´We need to cross,´ I say, my voice barely audible above the sound of the river. Edwena looks at the river with apprehension.

´How? It looks too deep to wade across.´ I scan the riverbank, searching for a way to cross. The current is strong, and the water looks icy cold. Swimming across would be risky, especially with our already weakened state. A little further downstream, I spot a fallen tree trunk spanning the river, its branches tangled in the water. ´There,´ I say, pointing to the fallen tree. ´We can use that as a bridge.´ Edwena follows my gaze, her eyes widening with concern. ´Are you sure that´s safe? It looks slippery and unstable.´ ´It´s our best option,´ I reply, my voice firm. ´We can´t stay here all night. They could be searching for us.´ I take Edwena´s hand and lead her towards the fallen tree.

As we get closer, I can see that the trunk is indeed slippery and covered in moss. The branches are gnarled and twisted, making it difficult to get a secure grip. I test the stability of the trunk with my foot, making sure it can support our weight. ´Okay,´ I say, taking a deep breath. ´We need to be careful. Take small steps, and hold on tight to the branches.´ I step onto the trunk, testing my balance. The wood is slick, and my feet slide slightly. I grip the branches tightly, using them to steady myself. ´Come on,´ I say, extending my hand to Edwena. ´I´ll help you.´ She hesitates for a moment, then takes my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. Together, we begin to cross the fallen tree, inching our way slowly and carefully across the rushing river.

The water roars beneath us, threatening to sweep us away, but we hold on tight, our determination fueled by the hope of reaching safety on the other side. We are halfway across, when suddenly, the tree trunk shifts beneath our feet. I lose my balance, my feet slipping on the mossy surface. For a moment, I fear that we are going to fall into the icy water, but I manage to regain my footing, pulling Edwena with me. We cling to each other, our hearts pounding in our chests, our bodies trembling with fear and adrenaline. With renewed determination, we continue our crossing, our steps even more cautious and deliberate than before. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, we reach the other side. We stumble onto the riverbank, collapsing onto the soft earth, our bodies weak and exhausted. We have made it. We are safe, at least for now. The lights on the other side of the river seem to draw us closer.

Chapter 5

We lie there for a few moments, catching our breath and allowing our heart rates to return to normal. The ground is cold and damp beneath us, but it feels good to be on solid ground again. I sit up, pulling Edwena with me. We are both soaked to the bone, our clothes clinging to our bodies, but we are alive and safe. I scan our surroundings, trying to get a sense of where we are. The forest is less dense on this side of the river, and I can see a faint path leading away from the riverbank. The lights in the distance seem closer now, and I can hear the faint hum of traffic. ´We need to keep moving,´ I say, my voice hoarse. ´We´re not out of the woods yet.´ Edwena nods in agreement, her eyes filled with determination. We stand up, our legs shaky and unsteady, and begin to walk along the path.

The path winds its way through the trees, gradually ascending a small hill. As we reach the top of the hill, the trees thin out, and we emerge into a clearing. Before us lies a small town, its houses and buildings huddled together under the soft glow of streetlights. I can see cars driving along the main street, and the windows of some of the houses are lit up. It´s a small, unassuming town, but it represents safety and civilization. A chance to blend in. ´We made it,´ Edwena whispers, her voice filled with awe. I put my arm around her, pulling her close. ´Almost,´ I say. ´We still need to find a place to hide.´ We start walking towards the town, our steps quickening with each passing moment.

As we get closer, I can see that the town is even smaller and more rustic than I had initially thought. The houses are old and weathered, their paint peeling and faded. The streets are narrow and winding, and there are few people around. It´s a quiet, sleepy town, seemingly untouched by the outside world. We reach the outskirts of the town and begin to walk along the main street. The buildings are mostly closed, but I can see a small diner with its windows glowing warmly. The aroma of coffee and fried food wafts out into the street, making my stomach rumble. ´We should go in there,´ Edwena says, pointing to the diner. ´We need to warm up and get something to eat.´ I hesitate for a moment, weighing the risks. Going into a public place could expose us to danger, but we are both exhausted and hungry, and the warmth of the diner is tempting.

Besides, this town seems so small and isolated that it´s unlikely anyone here would recognize us. ´Okay,´ I say. ´But we need to be careful. Don´t say anything that could reveal who we are.´ We walk towards the diner, our hopes rising with each step. The bell above the door jingles as we enter, announcing our arrival to the few patrons inside. The diner is small and cozy, with red vinyl booths, checkered floors, and a long counter with swivel stools. A friendly-looking waitress with a warm smile approaches us. I am thankful for this brief moment of peace and hope.

The waitress, her nametag reads "Brenda", beams at us, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, hello there, you two look like you’ve seen a ghost! Come in, come in, and let me get you something warm.” Her voice is soothing, like a warm blanket on a cold night. She leads us to a booth in the back corner, away from the other patrons. We gratefully slide into the booth, sinking into the worn vinyl seats. The diner is filled with the comforting aroma of coffee, bacon, and pancakes. It’s a stark contrast to the cold, damp forest we just escaped. Brenda returns with two steaming mugs of coffee. The warmth seeps into my chilled hands as I wrap them around the mug. I take a sip, the rich, bitter liquid warming me from the inside out. “So, what brings you folks to Harmony Creek this late?” Brenda asks, her eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

I glance at Edwena, a silent question passing between us. I decide to keep it simple. “We were hiking and got caught in the rain. We lost our way and ended up following the river.” Brenda nods sympathetically. “Oh, you poor dears! This mountain can be treacherous, especially at night. You’re lucky to be alive.” She pauses, her gaze lingering on Edwena. “You look a little pale, honey. Are you feeling alright?” Edwena forces a smile. “I’m just tired. The hike was a bit more challenging than we expected.” Brenda nods again, seemingly satisfied with our explanation.

“Well, let me get you something to eat. What can I get for you?” We order two plates of pancakes with bacon, hoping the hearty meal will replenish our energy. As Brenda heads to the kitchen, I lean closer to Edwena. “We need to be careful,” I whisper. “This town might seem quiet, but we don’t know who we can trust.” Edwena nods, her eyes filled with concern. “I know. But I’m so tired, Carver. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going.” I take her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know, but we’ll get through this. We always do.” Brenda returns with our plates of pancakes, the sweet smell filling the air. We dig in, devouring the food with a hunger we haven’t felt in days.

As we eat, I notice a man sitting at the counter, watching us intently. He’s dressed in a dark suit, and his face is hidden behind a baseball cap. There’s something about him that makes me uneasy. I nudge Edwena, subtly nodding towards the man at the counter. She glances at him, her eyes widening slightly. We finish our meal, feeling a bit more restored. As Brenda brings us the check, I ask, “Do you know of any motels or inns nearby?” Brenda thinks for a moment. “There’s the Hilltop Motel on the other side of town, it's a small, quiet place.” That could work for the moment. I pay the bill, leaving a generous tip for Brenda. As we leave the diner, I can feel the man’s eyes on our backs. We need to find a safe place for the night.

The night air is crisp as we step out of the diner, the neon glow of its sign casting long shadows on the deserted street. Harmony Creek is quiet, almost eerily so. I take Edwena’s hand, pulling her close as we start walking in the direction Brenda indicated. The Hilltop Motel is our only option right now. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. I glance over my shoulder, but the street behind us is empty. The man from the diner is nowhere to be seen. Still, my gut is screaming at me.

“Did you see the guy at the counter?” I ask Edwena, my voice low.

“Yes,” she replies, her voice barely a whisper. “He was staring at us. Do you think he followed us?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances. Let’s pick up the pace.”

We walk quickly, our footsteps echoing on the empty sidewalks. The town is small, consisting of a few shops, a post office, and a gas station, all closed for the night. The Hilltop Motel appears on the horizon, a dimly lit sign flickering above a two-story building. It looks rundown, but it’s better than nothing. We reach the motel, and I lead Edwena to the front desk. A bell rings as I approach, and a sleepy-eyed man emerges from a back room.

“Can I help you folks?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“Yes, we need a room for the night,” I reply, keeping my voice even.

He glances at us, his eyes lingering on Edwena. “Name?”

“Smith,” I say, without hesitation. “John and Mary Smith.”

He nods, seemingly unfazed by our obvious lie. He slides a registration form across the counter, and I fill it out quickly, using the fake names. He hands me a key. “Room 12, second floor. Enjoy your stay.”

We take the key and head up the creaky staircase to the second floor. Room 12 is at the end of the hallway, a small, cramped space with a double bed, a worn-out armchair, and a small television. It’s far from luxurious, but it’s clean and dry. I lock the door behind us, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. For now, we are safe.

“I’m going to check the perimeter,” I say to Edwena. “Make sure there are no other ways in or out.”

She nods, collapsing onto the bed. I check the windows, making sure they are locked. The only other exit is the door, which I barricade with the armchair. It’s not much, but it will buy us some time if anyone tries to break in. I return to Edwena, sitting beside her on the bed. She looks exhausted, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and uncertainty.

“We’re safe now,” I say, taking her hand. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch.”

The weight of the past days settles heavily on Edwena’s shoulders, her breathing evening out as sleep claims her. I watch her, the soft rise and fall of her chest a fragile rhythm in the stillness of the room. The flickering light from the motel sign outside casts dancing shadows on the walls, a silent movie playing out our fears and hopes. I shift on the bed, careful not to disturb her. My mind races, piecing together the fragments of Edwena’s past, the Daniel family's manipulations, the secrets hidden within the research facility. Each revelation is a step closer to the truth, but also a step deeper into danger.

Hours pass. The only sound is the gentle hum of the old refrigerator outside the room. I remain vigilant, every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of leaves outside the window, sets my nerves on edge. I know we are not truly safe, not while the Daniels are still out there, searching for Edwena. I think about my mother, safe in her cottage, unaware of the risks I am taking. The thought of her fuels my resolve. I have to protect Edwena, not just for her sake, but for the chance to return to a life where I don’t have to fear for my life. As dawn approaches, painting the sky in hues of grey and pink, Edwena stirs. She blinks, her eyes filled with confusion, before recognition dawns. “Carver?” she asks, her voice groggy. “Did you sleep?” I offer her a tired smile. “I was watching over you.”

She sits up, stretching her arms. “I had the strangest dream,” she says, her brow furrowed. “I was in a laboratory, and they were… experimenting on me.” My heart clenches at her words. I wish I could shield her from the truth, but I know she needs to understand what happened to her. “It wasn’t a dream, Edwena,” I say gently. “It was a memory.” I tell her everything we found at the research facility, the file named ‘Project: Memory’, the experiments, and her involuntary involvement. As I speak, her eyes widen, filled with a mixture of horror and understanding. The weight of the truth settles between us.

We leave the motel, the rising sun casting long shadows behind us. Harmony Creek is just starting to wake up. As we walk towards the diner, the air feels thick with uncertainty. We have nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. But as I look at Edwena, at the strength in her eyes, I know that we will face whatever comes next, together.