CHAPTER 62

A Life Rewritten

Pain. That was the first thing I felt. A deep, splitting pain behind my eyes, as if my brain had been cracked open and left exposed.

I gasped, my body jerking against the cold table, every nerve ending on fire. My head throbbed, my vision blurred, and for a moment, I couldn't tell where I was. Then the flood came.

Memories—no, ghosts—rushed through me in rapid succession. A kaleidoscope of past lives, buried truths clawing their way back into my mind. They weren't just fragments. They were real.

I saw a room, dimly lit, lined with steel and secrets. A man stood before me, his eyes sharp with calculation. Julian.

"You understand what this means?" he asked.

I nodded. "I do."

The words echoed in my mind, the certainty in my own voice making my stomach churn. This wasn't a trick. This wasn't a planted memory.

I had said those words.

I had agreed.

The machine buzzed, another wave crashing over me. Blood on my hands—missions carried out with cold precision. Names, faces, orders given and obeyed.

I wasn't framed.

I had joined The Oath.

The realization hit like a bullet to the gut. My breath hitched, my chest constricting under the weight of it all.

No. No, that can't be right.

I gritted my teeth, fighting against the restraints, against the past itself, but the images wouldn't stop. They forced themselves upon me, relentless and unforgiving.

I saw myself standing in a boardroom, shaking Julian's hand. The deal was struck, my loyalty sealed.

And then—Emily.

A memory of her, so small, so innocent, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Daddy, where are we going?"

Her voice shattered something inside me. I gasped, my body tensing as my mind tried to make sense of it all.

Julian's voice came next, smooth and unyielding. "She'll be taken care of. It's better this way."

Another image—Emily being led away, clutching a small stuffed bear, her face uncertain but trusting.

What did I do?

A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal.

Then—silence.

The machine powered down. The flood slowed to a trickle, leaving behind the wreckage of what I now knew.

I wasn't a victim. I was a willing participant.

My head lolled to the side. I could barely breathe.

I felt hands on me, pulling the electrodes away. Voices. Distant. Muffled.

"Nathan?"

Riley.

I blinked, forcing my vision to focus. She was leaning over me, her brows knitted in concern.

"Say something," she urged.

I tried to speak, but my throat was raw. My body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder.

Vance stood behind her, arms crossed. "Well? Do you remember?"

The question rang in my ears, rattling around my skull like broken glass.

I swallowed hard. "Yeah," I rasped.

Riley exhaled in relief—until she saw my face.

"What is it?" she asked.

I pushed myself upright, every muscle screaming in protest. My hands shook as I ran them through my damp hair.

"I…" The words caught in my throat, thick with regret.

Riley's expression darkened. "Nathan, what did you see?"

I clenched my fists. "I wasn't framed."

Silence.

The kind that weighed heavy, pressing down on the room, making it hard to breathe.

Riley's mouth parted slightly, her usual sharp wit replaced by something softer. Something like disbelief.

"What?" she whispered.

I looked away, my jaw tight. "I wasn't framed. I—" My voice broke. "I joined them. I chose to join them."

The confession felt like swallowing glass.

Riley took a slow step back, arms wrapping around herself. "No," she said, shaking her head. "That's not possible. You wouldn't—"

"But I did." I met her eyes, forcing her to see the truth. "I shook Julian's hand. I let them take Emily. I was one of them, Riley."

Her throat bobbed, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "No," she repeated, her voice harder now. "Something's wrong. Maybe they brainwashed you—"

"Do you think I don't want that to be true?" I snapped, my voice hoarse. "Do you think I don't want to believe that?"

She flinched.

I exhaled, dragging a shaky hand down my face. My stomach churned, my body cold with the weight of what I'd learned.

"I was one of them," I whispered. "And I don't know how to live with that."

Riley was quiet for a long time.

Then, finally, she stepped closer.

Her voice was softer now. "What made you leave?"

The question cut through the noise in my head.

I frowned, trying to grasp at the fragments, but the memories ended there. There was nothing beyond that moment in the boardroom. Nothing but an aching void.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Something happened. Something made me turn against them. But I don't remember what."

Riley studied me carefully. "Then we find out."

I looked at her, searching for the judgment, the distrust. But all I saw was determination.

"You still trust me?" I asked, barely able to believe it.

Her lips pressed into a firm line. "You're here, aren't you?"

A sharp laugh escaped me, bitter and hollow. "For now."

Vance cleared his throat, looking far too amused for my liking. "Well. That was dramatic. But I'd say you got your money's worth."

I shot him a glare. "We're not done."

He arched a brow. "Oh?"

I swung my legs over the side of the table, ignoring the way my body protested.

"I need the rest of my memories," I said. "Every single one."

Vance sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Riley crossed her arms. "Can you do it?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "It's possible. But whatever you're missing… there's a reason they made sure you'd never find it."

I met Riley's gaze.

"I don't care."

She smirked, just barely. "Then let's finish what we started."

I nodded.

Because whatever was waiting for me in the shadows of my mind—

I was ready to face it.