YZARIAH ZAMIRA SALAZAR
I was just sitting here in my office, waiting for my girlfriend.
Yes—girlfriend.
It's been a few weeks since she said yes to me.
I know it's fast. Maybe to some, it seems reckless. But you can't blame me. I waited so long for this. So many nights spent wondering if she'd ever look at me the same way again, if her heart could still recognize mine even if her memories didn't. So when she said yes—when she chose me—I knew I'd do anything to hold onto it. To hold onto her.
"Leave," I hissed at my cousin, Ythara.
But of course, she didn't. Instead of listening, she chose to challenge me like she always does. Said she just wanted to meet Serise. Said she was curious, even excited to meet the girl who, unknowingly, had changed me.
Before I could argue further, Serise walked into the office, her presence quiet but grounding—just like always. Ythara immediately took her chance, introduced herself with a wide smile and curious eyes. I could barely hold back my irritation. After all, I wanted Serise all to myself. So I dragged Ythara away as quickly as I could.
She was a disturbance. A distraction.
I had plans.
I asked Serise to come with me to Tagaytay. My mom told me she wanted to see Aunt Serine again, even though they’ve been talking and meeting regularly already. But I knew that wasn't the real reason. She just missed Serise. Missed her warmth, her calm voice, her gentle nature—just like I did. Just like we all did.
To make the trip more comfortable for Serise, I invited her friends. Even brought along mine, though I didn't want to. I only did it to make it easier for her to say yes. I knew she was still cautious—still keeping a bit of distance I tried so hard to close. Even Zanaya came all the way from Pasay, and Zaniya, who was in Baguio, rushed to Tagaytay the moment she heard Serise was going.
Everyone wanted to be near her.
Everyone loved her.
They always had.
She's the kind of person people are naturally drawn to—the one whose absence leaves silence even in a crowded room. She doesn't even try to be that person. She just is.
But I never expected that our little escape to Tagaytay… would turn into a tragedy.
I received a call. A call from the man who had caused it all.
My father.
The monster behind Project Mnemosyne. The architect of my suffering. The reason Serise doesn't remember who I am. The reason I have to fight every damn day for a love that was once so effortlessly ours.
He took her from me.
He erased me from her world.
I rushed to Aunt Serine's room the moment I heard what happened. Panic had erupted in the halls of the hotel. Someone said Serise collapsed. Someone else said she screamed.
Something had triggered her trauma.
And when I saw her—trembling, broken, her body unresponsive—I didn't even think. I scooped her up into my arms and carried her to our room. Every step was fueled by fear. I kept whispering that she was safe, that I was here. That I wouldn't leave her again.
But as soon as I reached the bed… my vision spun. A splitting pain in my skull overtook everything. My knees gave in. I collapsed beside her, my fingers barely brushing her skin before everything went black.
