Ava awoke with a jolt, her eyes fluttering open to find herself in a room that wasn't her own. The sunlight filtered through a lace curtain, casting delicate patterns on the walls. She blinked, disoriented, trying to piece together how she had ended up here. Her heart raced as she scanned the room, her thoughts still clouded by the remnants of a strange dream.
"Good morning," a soft voice greeted her. Ava turned to see Elara standing by her bedside, concern etched on her face. "You collapsed from fatigue. I brought you here to rest."
Ava sighed, rubbing her eyes as the dream faded, replaced by a deep, unsettling exhaustion. The events of the previous day were a blur, and her body felt as though it had been drained of all energy. She glanced at Elara while a small holo orb in the room projected a soothing voice, explaining her vitals. The calm, automated voice seemed at odds with the confusion swirling in Ava's mind.
Elara placed a comforting hand on Ava's arm, her expression sympathetic. "Rest is what you need right now. Take it easy. Someone will be coming shortly to explain things."
Once Elara left, Ava lay still, staring at the ceiling. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the day before. She felt a strange mix of frustration and anxiety. Just as she was about to close her eyes again, a shadow in the doorway caught her attention. Ronan stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, his expression unreadable.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Ronan hesitated, then stepped into the room, his movements careful, as if he was afraid of startling her. He looked tense, his usual confident demeanor replaced by something more subdued. Finally, he approached the bed and sat at its edge.
"What the... Ronan," Ava muttered, her voice heavy with confusion and lingering fatigue.
Ronan met her gaze, his eyes softening with something that almost resembled regret. He reached into his suit and pulled out a small, gleaming pendant, holding it out to her. "I know I shouldn't come empty-handed," he said quietly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
Ava stared at the pendant in his hand, bewildered. It was a simple, elegant piece, its delicate design out of place in this moment. She glanced back at Ronan, unsure of what to make of his gesture. It was strange, almost awkward, but there was something undeniably earnest about it.
"What happened?" Ava asked, her voice steadying as she focused on the question that had been gnawing at her.
Ronan hesitated, then sighed. "I'm here to explain what happened," he said, his voice low. He glanced at her, then looked away as if gathering his thoughts. "But first, how are you feeling?"
Ava's head throbbed, a dull ache pressing against her temples. "I have a headache, and I feel like I've been hit by a truck," she said, her tone edged with impatience. "Why is that? And why does everything feel so... hazy?"
Ronan shifted, his expression growing more serious. "Lucas, the boy who was with you when you first arrived, tried to temporarily remove your memory of yesterday. It must have created some sort of side effect."
Ava blinked, her confusion deepening. "Clearly, that didn't work," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why would you even think of doing that?"
Ronan's shoulders tensed, and he moved closer, sitting at the very edge of her bed. His presence was almost overwhelming, yet there was a vulnerability in his posture that Ava had never seen before. "Because I asked him to," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't have answers for you yet, and I knew you'd want them. I thought... I thought it would protect you, to give you some peace of mind. The whole village doesn't know what happened yesterday. I wanted to give you the same—peace."
Ava stared at him, her mind racing to process his words. She could see the logic in his decision, but the thought of someone altering her memory without her consent felt like a violation. Her eyes narrowed as she met his gaze. "It still doesn't give you the right to do that to me," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "Wasn't there a rule about not doing something like that without permission?"
Ronan looked down at his hands, guilt shadowing his features. "There is," he said quietly. "And I've already been punished for it."
Ava's chest tightened with conflicting emotions. She wanted to be angry with him, to lash out, but the sight of Ronan sitting there, his guilt laid bare, made it difficult. He had always been the one with answers, the one she could rely on. And yet, this betrayal, however well-intentioned, cut deep.
Silence hung heavy between them, thick with unspoken tension. Ava kept her eyes averted, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic mix of anger, confusion, and something she couldn't quite name. She wasn't sure what to feel, but the ache of betrayal gnawed at her. Finally, she broke the quiet, her voice composed but laced with frustration. "You said the whole village doesn't know what happened."
Ronan inhaled deeply, his expression hardening as he prepared to explain. "Let me start from the beginning," he said, his tone steady, yet guarded. "After I had the vision, I rushed back to the village and alerted the Upper 6 through my Neural Link. There's a safety protocol for situations like this. Everyone went into hiding, and the village was evacuated."
Ava listened, her brow furrowing as she tried to process his words. "But that doesn't explain why, the next day, everything was back to normal," she pressed.
Ronan sighed, the weight of the explanation showing in his eyes. "The villagers believe it was just a drill. The Upper 6 wanted to avoid chaos—especially with all the young children here. They sent out a report through everyone's PAI, and people carried on as if nothing had happened."
Ava's mind raced, her impatience growing. She clenched her fists. "So Elara just ignored everything? Acted like I wasn't caught up in all of this? By the next morning, someone could've told me what was going on."
Ronan's gaze faltered. "That was... an oversight. She didn't know that the wipe didn't work."
But her own feelings remained a mess, overshadowing his enthusiasm. A gnawing question clawed at her, one she couldn't ignore any longer. "If everyone was evacuated," she said, her voice cutting through his explanation, "why was I left behind?"
Ronan's enthusiasm faltered, and a look of guilt washed over his face. "You should have been informed of the safety protocols when you first arrived," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "An emergency link should have been added to your PAI, but... it wasn't. I didn't know you had missed the safety call until I saw you again in the house."
Ava's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean, right before? Because you were there, waiting for me," she said, her tone more accusatory than she intended.
Ronan sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "That's the tricky part," he confessed. "I wasn't. I was at the hideout, not knowing what was going on with you."
Ava's mind reeled. She had been so sure that Ronan was there, that he had come to save her. But now, his words shattered that certainty. She stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. "But... how?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Ronan looked at her, his expression a mix of sympathy and confusion. "I don't know," he admitted. "But somehow, I was there."
Ava's breath caught in her throat as the implications of his words sank in. The memory of him being there, of his presence at her side, had been her lifeline, the one thing that had kept her grounded in the chaos. But now, even that was called into question. She felt a wave of despair wash over her, the fragile trust she had in him slipping away.
Ronan watched her, his expression pained as he saw the turmoil in her eyes. Slowly, he reached out, hesitating before finally resting his hand over hers. He wasn't good with words, and it showed. Instead of speaking, he simply looked down at their hands, watching as he lightly caressed hers. It was a silent gesture, but in that moment, it conveyed more than words ever could.
Ava looked at their hands, her emotions a tangled mess. She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond. All she knew was that the person she had relied on, the person she had thought she could trust, had betrayed her in a way she hadn't expected. And now, as she sat there, staring at their hands, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was more alone than ever.
