𝑁𝑂𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐺'𝑆 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼𝑇 𝑆𝐸𝐸𝑀𝑆

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   ❛𝐒𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄'𝐒 𝐄𝐗-𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃?' Kaz's voice cuts through the room, sharp, curious, almost accusatory.

I nod, keeping my tone quiet. 'Uhu.'

'And you... died for him?'

'Uhu.' My chest tightens, and I feel the pull of old, half-forgotten pain. I didn't just die; I died thinking of him. Every instinct in my body had been tied to him, even when I barely knew I was still tethered to life.

'Yet... you're still alive?'

'Uhu.' I keep my gaze fixed on the floor. It feels strange to answer so simply, when the truth is a labyrinth of science, loss, and memory fragments.

Kaz leans back, frowning in disbelief. 'Because you've been revived by his father, who he doesn't see as his father, because he sees Mr. Davenport as his father?'

I nod again. 'Uhu.' My fingers twitch slightly, and I realize I'm holding back from asking a dozen questions I don't even know how to articulate.

'You're complicated,' he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

'You seem to comprehend my situation rather well,' I reply lightly, though the truth feels heavier than any smirk could lighten. It's like talking to Adam, but not Adam—something familiar, something unfamiliar all at once.

Mr. Davenport walks by, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting. I stand quickly, instinct kicking in. 'Excuse me.'

'Excuse you,' Kaz mutters, and I catch the sarcasm, but my mind is elsewhere.

I approach Mr. Davenport, words hovering on the tip of my tongue. 'Hi... Mr. Davenport. I had a question.'

He studies me, a small, sympathetic frown tugging at his features. 'I'm not surprised. This must all feel so surreal. So many people know you, and you don't know anyone.' His voice carries a weight of pity, but not condescension. It unsettles me.

I take a deep breath, forcing my mind to focus. 'About that... what does it mean when I do recognize someone right away?'

His eyes soften, understanding flickering there. 'It means that person meant something to you. Something that survived even when other memories were destroyed. That connection... it's strong, perhaps the strongest one you had.'

I hesitate, words catching in my throat. My gaze drifts to the living room, where Chase and Reese are arguing. I watch him—the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flash when she says something that clearly irritates him. Even as he nods and smiles at her eventually, I see the simmering frustration underneath. He's still angry... but he's hiding it perfectly. I hadn't realized how much I underestimated him—how well he masks the storm inside.

Mr. Davenport's voice pulls me back. 'Let me guess... it's Chase.'

I blink, startled. My lips part, but only a soft nod escapes me. My gaze drops to the floor, embarrassed, shy in a way I haven't been in years.

'I'm not surprised,' he continues, shrugging lightly. 'The two of you have shared a bond since the beginning that I can't explain. And for as far as we know, you're the only one to ever anti-trigger Spike.'

I freeze. Spike. I remember now—the dozens of times I had deactivated him, used like a tool, a remote control. All those moments that had been erased, and yet somehow, fragments resurface. My breath catches. 'I remember Spike,' I whisper, voice low.

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