Fragments

10

The day passes in a blur of silence and tension. Kellan moves around the cabin in a frenzy, checking and rechecking every corner, every possible weak point where the Ministry might find us. I watch him, trying to understand the life he's lived, the one they tried to erase from my mind. The man who stands before me is a fighter, someone who's been on the run for a long time. And now, I'm running with him.

I busy myself with the little things like sweeping the floor and wiping down the table-actions that are mindless but comforting. I catch glimpses of him as he works: his sharp jaw set in concentration, the way his eyes flicker to the windows every few minutes as if expecting to see our pursuers outside. He's restless, his movements taut with the energy of someone who's spent too much time in the shadows.

"You should rest," he says at one point, glancing over at me and noticing the way I'm struggling to move the broom along the floor with my lack of energy.

"I'm not tired," I lie, my body aching from the events of the past day. Sleep would be easy to surrender to, but the fear of what might come in the night keeps me alert.

He studies me for a moment, then nods, not pressing the issue. Instead, he moves to the small woodpile beside the fireplace and starts stacking logs into the hearth. He strikes a match, the flame catching and crackling to life. Warmth spreads slowly through the room, the orange glow casting long shadows on the walls.

I take a seat on one of the worn chairs near the fire, pulling my knees up to my chest. Kellan joins me, settling into the chair opposite mine. My mind is filled with the questions I'm not ready to ask and the answers he seems hesitant to give. The firelight dances across his face, highlighting the scar on his cheek and the dark shadows beneath his eyes.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. "What now?" I ask, my voice breaking the stillness. "What's the plan?"

Kellan leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "For now, we lay low. This place is off their grid, hidden from their surveillance. But it's not permanent. They'll figure out we escaped, and they'll come looking."

He doesn't have to say who they are. The Ministry. The ones who took my memories, who turned my life into a controlled, perfect lie threatened our existence once again. I shiver at the idea of being forced to succumb to their ways for a second time. I wanted my own life, wanted to explore what I'd forgotten.

"How long do we have?" I ask, my voice smaller than I'd like.

"A few days, maybe more if we're lucky," he replies, his gaze steady on mine. "We need to use this time to gather our strength, to plan how we fight back."

"Fight back," I repeat, the words foreign on my tongue. "You say that like it's something we can actually do."

"It is," Kellan insists, his voice gaining an edge. "The Ministry isn't invincible, Lena. They want us to believe that they are, but they have weaknesses. Cracks in their control. We've exploited them before. We got out, didn't we?"

"Escaping from them and challenging them are different things," I say cautiously, leaning forward just like him and letting the warm firelight illuminate my face. "I don't remember any of this, Kellan. I don't remember being someone who could fight back and just take what I want."

He flinches slightly, as if my words have struck him. "Because they took that from you," he reminds me, his voice tight with restrained anger, not for me, but for the Ministry and the harm they had done. "But that doesn't mean you aren't still that person. It's inside you, even if you can't see it right now."

I look away, staring into the flames and feeling the sting of frustration and fear. How am I supposed to fight against an enemy I can't even remember? Against memories that feel like nothing but shadows? "I don't know how to be that person," I whisper.