The Midnight Train

17:

Lydia emerged from the bedroom, her face pale and drawn, the tension in the air suffocating. She had overheard enough to know something was very wrong. Her eyes were wide with fear, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of the door frame for support. The weight of uncertainty hung heavy between them as she took a deep breath, her voice quivering with both confusion and anger.

"Nolan," she began, her voice sharp, demanding. "What the hell was that? Who were they? What aren’t you telling me?"

Nolan, still standing by the door, his back to her, felt the knot of dread tighten in his chest. He wanted to protect her from the truth, to keep her safe from the weight of the secrets that had followed him here. He took a breath, trying to steady himself, and lied—again.

“They’re just… people from my past,” he said, his voice low, hoping the vagueness would be enough to pacify her. “They don’t mean anything now.”

Lydia's eyes narrowed as she stepped further into the room, the uncertainty in her heart turning into a gnawing suspicion. "Don’t lie to me," she snapped, her voice rising. "They mentioned me. They knew about me, Nolan! You told me we were safe here, but that’s a lie too, isn’t it? What are you hiding from me?"

Nolan turned to face her, his expression hardening as he met her gaze. His pulse quickened, but he forced his face into a mask of calm. "Lydia, please—"

"Please, what?" Lydia interrupted, her voice trembling now with a mixture of anger and fear. "Tell me another lie? You’ve been lying to me this whole time! Those men knew my name. They think I’m part of this, and you’re standing there telling me nothing’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words faltered. The more she spoke, the more he could see her piecing it together, the fractured memories in her mind beginning to form a clearer picture. His silence was damning, and Lydia's eyes widened in realization.

“You… you think I know something. Don’t you?" Lydia's voice dropped to a whisper. "That’s why I’m here. You need me to remember something.”

Nolan's resolve cracked, his anger bubbling to the surface. “You’re damn right I need you to remember!” he shouted, his voice harsh and filled with months of pent-up frustration. “Because if you could regain your memories, we’d be out of this mess by now! You think I’m lying to protect myself? No, I’m trying to save both of us from the past that’s clawing at our throats!"

Lydia recoiled slightly, shock flickering across her face. "So, what is it then?" she asked, her voice quieter now but still filled with steel. “What’s so important that you’re keeping me here, keeping me in the dark?”

Nolan took a step forward, his face flushed with frustration. “You want the truth? Fine. I’ve been trying to keep you safe because Damon Hart’s crew—they’re not just after me, Lydia. They think you have something they need, something locked away in that broken mind of yours, and if they get to you before we figure it out, you’re as good as dead.”

Lydia stared at him, her breath coming faster now as the weight of his words sank in. "And you think I’ll just… remember? Just like that? You think I *want* to be part of this nightmare? I don’t even know who I am anymore, Nolan!"

Nolan ran a hand through his hair, the anger fading into exhaustion. “By morning, we’re leaving,” he muttered. “The city. I thought staying off the grid was safe, but it’s not enough anymore. They’re too close.”

“No,” Lydia said firmly, shaking her head. “You can go if you want, but I’m staying here. I’m not running anymore. Not until I get some answers.”

Nolan’s frustration flared again, but this time he held it back. He took a long breath, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his voice steady. “There’s no room left to argue, Lydia,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t understand what you’re up against.”