The veil of hearts

•losing her•

42
//•••~~~~•••~~~~//

///

Joshua's POV

I made it back to Elmira faster than I thought possible. The private jet I'd hitched a ride on with the Doctors Without Borders team had been my only option after learning what Nordstrom was planning. My mind had been racing the entire flight—piecing together fragments of information, desperate to make sense of Aina's condition before it was too late.

When Mike's text came through with Aina's location at the university library, I'd nearly sprinted across campus, ignoring the burning in my lungs and the voice in my head warning me I might already be too late.

I approached silently, hearing voices from one of the study rooms ahead. Then I heard it—not a conversation, but a recording. A young man's voice explaining something that couldn't possibly be true.

"Your real name is Aina Liu Virtanen. You're not Turkish—you're Finnish."

I froze just outside the doorway, my back pressed against the wall as I listened. Every word unraveled the theories Sarah and I had developed about Aina's mysterious memory issues. Every word unraveled me.

"Your father and Professor Nordstrom were research partners, developing memory manipulation technology... you discovered Nordstrom was secretly weaponizing the research..."

Memory manipulation technology. The words struck me like physical blows. This wasn't a neurological condition. This was deliberate. Technology that could erase and replace someone's memories—it explained everything about the chip Sarah had found in Aina's brain during her examination after she collapsed at the airport.

I listened as the recording explained how her father had begged for her life, how they had erased her memories instead of killing her. How her father had later been murdered by Nordstrom. My stomach twisted with each revelation.

When the recording ended, I heard movement inside the room. I was about to enter when a new voice spoke—the same voice from the recording, but live this time.

"Aina."

I peered carefully around the edge of the doorway. The young man from the recording—Felix—now stood before Aina. I watched their entire interaction unfold, heard every word as he explained their connection, saw him show her the photograph of their past together.

"I didn't just protect you, Aina. I loved you. But I never told you. I was going to, the day everything fell apart."

The words gutted me. I pulled back, staying hidden as I processed what I was witnessing. My mind flashed back to that first day I saw her—when she stepped into that elevator, oblivious to my presence while her friends giggled around her. That stillness, that focus amidst the flurry around her, had drawn me instantly.

After that day, I found myself looking for her everywhere—in hallways, the cafeteria, even passing by classrooms where I knew she'd be. Those glimpses had become the highlight of my days. When she finally walked into my seminar, slightly breathless and apologizing for being late, I'd felt as if fate had finally aligned.

I'd told myself the instant connection I felt was inappropriate, impossible—she was my student, for God's sake. But I'd spent months finding excuses to help with her research, to schedule extra office hours when she needed them. I remembered how tenderly I'd fed her soup in the hospital after her collapse, how my heart had raced when I carried her down the corridor during her recovery walks, the way her fingers had absently played with the hair at the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.