BOOK 1 OF 5
A symphony of pain, a cacophony of confusion, an orchestra of agony, a chorus of fear, and an abyss of oblivion.
These haunting emotions encapsulated Peter's existence when he awoke in a bewildering new world, guided only by a peculiar v...
Amy had expected a lot when she swiped the card, but "the smell of something burning" definitely wasn't on the list.
As soon as she heard the approval beep from the panel and turned to a hidden door that was now open, she instinctively pinched her nose with her fingers, cringing at the smell she had just encountered. The girl already had an idea of what might have happened, but she only believed it when she got closer and illuminated the inside of the room.
Again, ashes. Ashes and burned papers piled up in a considerably small room compared to what she had been expecting. Not only it couldn't be what she was looking for, but this place wouldn't provide any clues, no matter how insignificant it may have seemed. Any phrase for her to obsess over for weeks, pondering every possible interpretation, anything to occupy her mind. Apparently, even the right to puzzle things out had been taken away, and the girl found herself at the mercy of fate again.
Once again, Amy had no control over anything. If effort equals results, then apparently everything she had done so far wasn't enough. While she clung to the last shreds of hope she had and searched for any trace of a clue, a part of her was already moving on, perhaps accepting that she might have lost. Maybe the right thing to do was to go back, apologize to her friend, and be there with him, recounting the memories they had, possibly rekindling that friendship.
But she just couldn't accept that. If she recounted all her memories, there would still be missing pieces; she would only have her own perspective to share, some things would vanish, things he remembered that she didn't. He loved to hide good memories and share them at the exact moment her heart would melt hearing them; it was a classic, and she wouldn't trade it for anything. If Amy accepted that Peter would no longer have her memories, he wouldn't be the person he once was.
And the moment she saw a paper that hadn't been completely burned, it was already too late; she was once again determined to do the impossible. That sea of infected she had seen earlier? Nowhere would be as well-guarded as that, but no place was impenetrable. Her years of infiltrating private properties had taught her that.
— If this paper don't got nothin', I'll... — Amy threatened as she bent down and picked up the sheet, audibly gasping when she read the only thing that remained. — E. M. Walker... Regional Director, Ark Division?
E.M. Walker.
Amy instinctively thought of the only person who came to mind that perfectly matched that name, Elizabeth Montenegro Walker. But this was unlikely, especially because Walker was certainly a very common surname. Moreover, Liz always traveled out of state, sometimes even out of the country. So it made no sense for her to be a regional director when she was never around, unless she worked as a regional director in other regions. Still, that confirmed it: Elizabeth worked at Hyperion.
But what made it so unbelievable to Amy? The fact that Elizabeth was not only Peter's mother, but also her guardian.
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