Chapter 4

The doctor said my memories weren't gone. They were locked away. The impact of the crash, followed by two years of daily "training," had buried them layer by layer. "They'll come back," she said. "But only in pieces. Triggered by smells, sounds, images. It will hurt." She was right. Over the next three days, the fragments tore through me one after another. The silver bird pendant— Rafael's first gift to me, on an anniversary I could no longer remember. A cold bedroom— We slept in separate rooms, divided by a hallway so long it seemed to have no end. His back as he turned away and shut the door. Again. And again. A door closing in my face. I remembered now. Our marriage had been cold from beginning to end. He barely touched me. Barely spoke to me. He left me alone inside this gilded mansion like an expensive ornament from a political marriage. And yet now... This man, who had frozen me out for an entire year, had spent three days and nights outside my bedroom door without sleeping. When I opened the door, he was sitting on the floor against the wall. His suit was wrinkled. Dark stubble covered his jaw. His eyes were streaked with red. The second he saw me, he stood too quickly, almost stumbling. "What did you remember?" He sounded desperate. Then, afraid of frightening me, he forced himself to stop before taking another step. I looked at him, my chest tangled with feelings I couldn't name. "You weren't like this before." My voice was quiet. "Back then, you didn't care about me at all." His face went pale, as if I had struck something already broken. "I cared." His voice was so low I almost missed it. "I just..." He swallowed. "Thought keeping my distance would keep you safe." "Safe?" I laughed coldly. I was so sick of that word I wanted to vomit. "I almost died inside 'safe.'" He didn't defend himself. Not a single word. He only closed his eyes. And for the first time, I saw pain clearly in that hard, merciless face. At that exact moment, another memory slammed into my skull without warning. The rainy night. Before the crash. Something was clenched in my hand. A USB drive. I remembered desperately trying to protect it. I had hidden it somewhere only I knew. Because what was on it could destroy someone completely. "Rafael." I grabbed his sleeve so hard my knuckles turned white. "The night of the accident, I had a USB drive." His pupils contracted. "What USB drive?" I forced myself to remember. My temples throbbed like they were splitting apart. Every recollection felt like tearing open a wound that hadn't healed. "I don't remember exactly what was on it..." I struggled for breath. "But I remember I was going to show it to you." "I had found out something." "Something that could bring down the Moretti family." Outside the room, hurried footsteps approached. Enzo appeared in the doorway, his face ashen, too shaken to even knock. "Don Moretti." His voice was tight. "Bruno ran." Rafael turned sharply. "Which Bruno?" The question left my mouth before I could stop it. Enzo looked at me, weighing each word. "The man who drove you out that night." He paused. "Your driver, Bruno Falcone." The moment he said the name, white light exploded through my mind. A wrinkled, ingratiating face slowly rose out of the darkness. It was him. His hands on the steering wheel. That rainy night. Expressionless. Driving the car straight off the cliff.