Those photos...
She got another clue to her missing mories.
And a man who looked at her like they had lived cherished monts she couldn’t rember.
Lara stared ahead, jaw tightening.
Even though there was still a fog in her mory, she was smart and started putting the pieces together.
Now she was getting a little bit scared.
Scared of facing what her past in the current life was like. She was scared that it was sothing she could not accept.
That was the part that made her uneasy.
...
"Hey."
Logan’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.
"You okay?"
She blinked, forcing her expression to settle.
"Yeah," she answered, a little too quickly.
Logan didn’t respond right away.
She could feel his glance—sharp, observant.
He didn’t believe her. But he didn’t push.
Lara exhaled slowly and looked forward again.
...
The ride back to the dock felt longer than it should have.
The road stretched endlessly ahead, dust curling in the wake of the trike as the last light of day bled into dusk. The sky burned in shades of amber and violet, but Lara barely noticed.
Her thoughts were louder than the engine.
Louder than the wind. Louder than everything.
She replayed the images again and again—not because she wanted to, but because her mind refused to let them go.
That smile. That version of her.
It didn’t feel fake.
It felt real. Like looking at a mory through soone else’s eyes.
Her fingers tightened slightly against her knee.
Who was I... when that picture was taken?
And more importantly—
Why don’t I rember being her?
...
Back at the mansion, when Shay had already fallen asleep, the room descended into a calm.
The kind of calm that made everything inside her feel louder by contrast.
But right now, there was only one thing that mattered.
Her phone.
She went straight to the balcony and closed the sliding door behind her.
For a mont, she just stood there.
Still and just listening.
Slowly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.
Her reflection stared back at her on the black screen.
Calm and composed.
Her thumb hovered for a second—
Then tapped.
The screen lit up.
The photos loaded instantly.
She stared at the first image. Her breath slowed.
There she was. No doubt about it.
She swiped.
The second photo appeared.
n in fatigues, scattered in loose formation, so sitting, so standing. The firelight painted everything in gold and shadow.
But her eyes didn’t linger on them.
They went straight to him.
Aquilo.
Her pulse quickened.
Because now—she noticed sothing she hadn’t before.
The way they stood. The spacing between them.
The alertness hidden beneath their relaxed posture.
This wasn’t an army cadet training.
This wasn’t just a random group of n and that wasn’t just a casual gathering.
Her stomach dropped slightly.
That looks like—
She stopped herself.
But the thought had already ford.
Her grip on the phone tightened.
What was I doing there?
The question felt heavier now.
Sharper.
Because it wasn’t just about who she was.
It was about what she was involved in.
A soft chi cut through the silence.
A new ssage.
From a recently added contact.
Her screen lit up.
Aquilo:The photo was taken just before the rescue in Fengsel.
Lara’s breath stilled.
Fengsel.
The word struck sothing deep in her mind—like a stone dropped into still water and created ripples.
Faint at first, then it spread like wildfire.
Fengsel.
She knew that na.
An island, at the northern edge of Azurverda—where the sea turned unforgiving, and the wind howled like sothing alive.
A place people didn’t return from.
A place they were sent to disappear.
In her past life, it was the destination of the exiles and criminals, the enemies of the state.
Her pulse quickened.
Another mory followed—clearer this ti.
The Norse Family. They were accused and condemned
Almost cast into that frozen grave of an island... until they clawed their way back and cleared their na.
She was sure she rembered that.
But then—sothing shifted.
Sothing deeper.
Her breathing slowed.
Her vision blurred for a second as another fragnt forced its way through.
She was sent on a mission.
Her father’s voice—low, firm, unyielding.
"Bring him back."
Her grip on the phone tightened.
Her father’s most trusted confidant was captured and taken to Fengsel.
And she—
She was sent to retrieve him.
The realization hit her like a blow.
Lara’s lips parted slightly.
I was there.
Not as an observer. Not as a bystander. Not a cadet.
But as soone involved.
Her chest rose and fell unevenly.
A new thought crept in—slow, heavy, undeniable.
What was Larissa Reyes... before all of this?
Her gaze dropped back to the ssage.
To the photo.
To the man who had stood beside her like it ant sothing.
Her throat tightened.
Because now, the question wasn’t just unsettling—
It was dangerous.
Was I... working with them?
Her pulse thudded in her ears.
Or...
Her fingers trembled slightly.
Was I one of them?
...
Her screen lit up again.
Another notification.
The glow felt harsher this ti—colder.
Lara dragged her thumb across the screen.
Yannis Fenn:Here is the password to open the file I sent earlier.
Her pulse quickened.
She moved fast—almost instinctively—fingers flying across the screen as she unlocked the file.
A brief pause.
A loading icon.
Then, it opened. The file just contained one image.
No text. No explanation.
Just a photograph.
Her breath caught.
Her hand trembled so violently she nearly dropped her phone. She tightened her grip just in ti, fingers turning cold against the casing.
Slowly... carefully...she brought the screen closer.
And then, her heart stopped for a beat.
A family photo.
Taken four years ago.
The lighting, the clothes, the expressions... all frozen in a mont that should have been warm. Should have been ordinary.
But it wasn’t. Not to her.
Because she recognized them at once and without doubt.
Her eyes locked onto the man first.
Artemio Fuegerro.
Even in a simple photograph, he carried the sa composed authority—the sa quiet control she had seen earlier. But here, it was softer. Less guarded.
Almost human. Almost.
Her gaze shifted. To the woman.
And the two teenagers standing beside her.
Recognition hit like a jolt.
They were the sa ones from the restaurant.
The sa two who had looked at her with expectation—no, with insistence.
"You’re only supposed to take care of us."
At the ti, it sounded strange. It sounded like a claim.
Like they knew her. Like they were waiting for her.
Her fingers curled slightly around the phone.
Why?
Her eyes flickered back to the image.
Details sharpened.
The way the teenagers stood close to the woman—but not to her, as their bodies were subtly angled away from her.
And then—
Her gaze lifted. To the figure standing just behind them.
Everything inside her went still.
It was her!
She was younger. The sa face. The sa features.
And unmistakably her.
But—
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