Chapter 11 - THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
For almost one minute, I stared at the image.
I zoomed in.
Then again.
And again.
But the face remained the same.
Mine.
Standing behind my younger self.
Watching the conversation between me and my father.
I felt my chest tighten.
That wasn’t possible.
The photograph was twenty years old.
I was eighteen.
There was only one version of me.
Or at least…
That was what I believed.
I printed the image and placed it on the table.
Captain Hayes looked at it.
His expression changed instantly.
“You found it.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew?”
He didn’t answer.
That was enough.
I grabbed him by the jacket.
“Tell me what happened.”
For the first time in years, Captain Hayes looked completely defeated.
“You weren’t supposed to remember this part.”
I pushed him away.
“I’m done hearing what I’m supposed to do.”
The room became silent.
Then Hayes finally spoke.
“After your father discovered Project Mirror, he tried to expose everyone involved.”
“And?”
“He realized they would come after you.”
I looked at the photograph.
“So he protected me.”
Hayes nodded.
“But not the way you think.”
I waited.
“He brought you to Victor Kane.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
“You were eighteen.”
“You were angry.”
“You wanted answers.”
I stared at him.
“That’s not true.”
Hayes looked at me.
“You don’t remember because you asked them to remove it.”
The words hit harder than any bullet.
I walked away.
Because a part of me knew he was telling the truth.
There were moments in my life I could never explain.
Dreams that felt like memories.
Voices I recognized but couldn’t place.
Faces that appeared in my nightmares.
Victor Kane.
Elias Voss.
My father.
All connected.
I returned to the old photograph.
Something was written on the back.
Something I had never noticed.
A date.
And a location.
The basement of Saint Agnes Hospital.
The same hospital where Project Mirror began.
My phone vibrated.
A new message.
“You’re looking in the wrong direction.”
Then another.
“The person you trust most knows why you forgot.”
I slowly turned toward Hayes.
Because there was only one person left.
The person who had been beside me for fifteen years.
The person who trained me.
The person who gave me the Voss case.
Captain Robert Hayes.
Before I could speak, every computer screen in the office turned on.
A video started playing.
It showed a younger me.
Sitting in a room.
Talking to Victor Kane.
My younger voice said:
“I want you to erase it.”
Victor asked:
“Everything?”
My younger self looked directly into the camera.
“Yes.”
“Everything.”
The video stopped.
And underneath appeared one sentence.
May you like
“You didn’t lose your memories.”
“You surrendered them.”
