What if every seven days, you became a stranger to your own life?

Elira wakes up in new lives every week—different names, unfamiliar places, yet the same haunting questions. With memories that don’t belong to her and a face she can’t forget, one man stands at the center of it all: Kael.

He claims to be her anchor—the keeper of her lost past. But as Elira uncovers fragments of truth, she begins to question everything: Kael’s intentions, her friends’ loyalty, and the very nature of her identity.

In a world where memory resets and nothing is what it seems, Elira must choose: reclaim who she was… or risk everything to become who she was meant to be.

"Tethered"

Not because she didn't try—she did. But as soon as she closed her eyes, Valen echoed through her skull like a forgotten melody.

Why did it feel like it belonged to her?

Morning came slow. Kael returned before sunrise, eyes scanning the room like a hawk pretending not to be.

He nodded, handed her a cup of coffee like he always did.

But something in his eyes flickered.

By noon, she met Christine again—this time in a cheap diner two towns over.

Christine spoke before Elira could even sit.

"There's a window. A gap in the cycle. Forty-eight hours before your next reset. If we get far enough—off-grid, completely—they can't track the memory reboots."

"You're saying we leave everything? Kael, Jane…"

Christine flinched slightly at Jane's name.

"Elira, this isn't about them anymore. It's about you. What they did to you."

The dream hit during the drive back.

She wasn't sleeping—just staring out the car window, the radio low—but something snapped.

She was on a rooftop. City lights like stars below.

A man stood at the edge. Tall. Face blurry. But the name hit her tongue like instinct.

He turned. "You shouldn't have come."

She stepped closer. "You're the one they made me forget."

He smiled—sadly. "Then you remember what I told you?"

He stepped forward. Grabbed her wrist.

The wind howled—then the rooftop vanished.

She gasped awake in Kael's car, sweat dripping down her neck.

Kael stood over her when she blinked.

"Elira," he added, gently this time. "Where were you?"

She tried to sit up. Her mouth was dry.

His gaze darkened. "Are you sure?"

Because she didn't know if he was worried—or watching.

That night, she watched the video again. The one on the flash drive.

Behind her bruised face—on the wall—was a name scratched into the paint.

But beneath it, something else. Faint. But real.

Whatever that meant… it wasn't just about her anymore.

Chapter 12 – The Memory That Wasn’t Mine