Symplytasha_04

Dear Tricia is a gripping suspense-thriller series that delves into the complexities of friendship, ambition, and survival. Told through a series of letters, confessions, and shocking revelations, the story follows a young woman navigating a treacherous world filled with secrets, betrayals, and high-stakes action.

As Tricia rises against overwhelming odds, fighting through personal struggles, deception, and unexpected dangers, she discovers that success comes at a price. With each chapter unraveling a new twist, Dear Tricia is a tale of resilience, loyalty, and the pursuit of dreams in a world where trust can be deadly.

Perfect for fans of heart-racing thrillers with deep emotional stakes, this series promises an unforgettable journey of ambition, sacrifice, and the dark truths lurking beneath the surface of success.

Dear Tricia-(Moved to a new link)

It started as a dull throb at the base of her skull, then sharpened into something relentless. Tricia's eyes fluttered open, but the world around her was nothing but darkness.

Cold metal pressed against her back. Her wrists, restrained. Ankles, bound.

A deep, sterile scent filled her nose. Antiseptic. Machinery. Blood.

She forced herself to steady her breathing. Panicking wouldn't help.

Then, a voice. Smooth. Controlled.

"You should've stayed dead, Tricia."

The overhead fluorescents buzzed to life, nearly blinding her.

Tricia squinted against the glare, and when her vision adjusted, she saw him.

Dressed in his usual black suit, crisp and calculated, he stood on the other side of the room, watching her like she was a fascinating puzzle he had already solved.

She clenched her jaw. "Wishful thinking on your part."

Voss smirked. "And yet, here you are."

He gestured, and suddenly, the walls shifted. Screens illuminated around her, displaying images she hadn't seen in years, memories she didn't even know she had.

A child in a sterile white room. Electrodes attached to her temples. A doctor scribbling notes as she screamed.

Then another. A different facility. A different girl.

Tricia's breath caught in her throat. The date in the corner of the screen, twenty-three years ago.

"You've been asking the wrong questions," Voss said. "It was never just about Project S.O.L.A.C.E. or the experiments. It was about you."

Tricia rolled her eyes. "Heard that before. What are you talking about?"

Voss stepped closer, his gaze sharp. "Tell me, Tricia, do you even know how old you are?"

She glared at him, refusing to play his game. "I was born in 2002."

The screens changed again. A new file appeared, one labeled with a single word that sent ice through her veins.

Voss circled her like a predator savoring its prey. "You weren't born. You were made."

She shook her head. "That's not possible,"

"Isn't it?" He leaned in. "Why do you think your memories never align? Why the inconsistencies? The blackouts? The abilities?"

Her breathing became shallow. She wanted to deny it. Wanted to call him a liar.

She had always known something was wrong.

Voss sighed as if disappointed. "You were the first successful attempt. The perfect subject. The only one who survived."

Tricia's hands clenched into fists.

The children in the lab. The numbered corpses. The failed experiments.

But she hadn't just survived, she had been designed to.

Voss straightened. "Now, are you ready to hear the rest?"

Tricia lifted her head, eyes blazing.

The black room