The folder looked harmless in his hands. Standard manila, creased at the corners, sealed with a strip of black tape. But the insignia stamped across the front—the one Aria hadn't seen since her brother's disappearance six years ago—made her stomach drop.
She didn't need to touch it to know it burned.
"What is that?" she asked, her voice tight.
Kael didn't answer right away. His jaw flexed, eyes flicking to the door that had fallen silent again.
He took her hand and pulled her gently toward the bedroom. "Get dressed. We're not staying here."
Her pulse spiked. "Kael—talk to me."
"I will," he promised, reaching for her overnight bag and tossing in what he could. "But not here. Someone knows I came back. Someone dangerous."
She backed away slightly, fear creeping into her spine. "Are you in trouble with the government?"
"No. I'm trouble for them."
His voice was low, final. Aria stared at him, rooted to the spot as memories rose like ghosts—memories of Kael in late-night phone calls, slipping out with no explanations, avoiding questions with a crooked smile and a kiss too hot to resist.
"Just tell me the truth," she whispered. "I can handle it."
He looked at her then, eyes softening. "I believe you."
Kael stepped forward, lifting the edge of the tape, and opened the folder.
Inside were documents—dozens. Medical records. Blacked-out files. Surveillance images. One photo made Aria's breath hitch: Kael in a hospital bed, tubes and wires like a spiderweb across his chest.
"What is this?" she murmured, fingers brushing the page.
"They ran trials," he said. "Not just treatment—experimental ones. I volunteered. Or, at least, I thought I did."
Her eyes met his. "What are you saying?"
"They injected me with something. I don't know what exactly. I only found out months later that it wasn't to cure me—it was to study the effects of cellular decay under stress."
Aria covered her mouth. "They used you."
Kael nodded. "And then they tried to erase me. When I started digging, people disappeared. My doctor, my case nurse, even a janitor from the facility—gone. I ran. Took everything I could find. They've been tracking me since."
The reality slammed into her all at once.
"You're dying… and they're hunting you?"
His expression was grim. "Not just hunting. If they find me, they'll silence me."
A chill tore through her. "Then why come back to me?"
"Because I couldn't die without seeing you again. And because if anything happens to me—this," he held up the folder, "goes to the press."
It was a death wish. It was a love letter. It was madness.
And Aria had never loved him more.
They didn't take the main roads. Kael's car—a black sedan she didn't recognize—moved like a ghost through sleepy towns and back roads. The longer they drove, the more Aria's anxiety clawed at her chest.
"You said 'they,'" she said finally. "Who is 'they,' Kael?"
"A research division. Private. Funded through government channels but hidden under civilian names. I found one of the shell companies—Virex Dynamics."
She frowned. "Sounds made up."
"It is. But their reach is real. Offshore accounts. Disappearing personnel. And they don't want what I have getting out."
"And what do you have?" she asked softly.
Kael looked at her with something unreadable in his expression. "Evidence of what they did. To me. To others. I'm not the only one."
The air in the car felt too thin.
"What do we do now?" she asked.
"We get somewhere safe. I have a contact. Used to work with them before he grew a conscience."
"Can we trust him?"
Kael's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "No. But we don't have many options."
They arrived at a rundown motel just before dusk. Kael paid in cash, used a name Aria had never heard before. In the room, he bolted the door, pulled the curtains tight, and finally—finally—looked at her without all the weight of the world pressing down.
"Are you okay?" he asked, brushing hair from her face.
"I should be the one asking you that."
"I'm used to running," he said. "But dragging you into this… that wasn't fair."
She stepped close. "You didn't drag me. I followed."
His eyes searched hers. "You don't have to stay."
"Yes, I do," she said fiercely. "You think I'd let you die alone? You don't get to make that choice for me again."
He cupped her cheek, thumb grazing her jaw. "You make it impossible to push you away."
"Good."
Their lips met—hungry, urgent, fueled by fear and longing. They tumbled onto the motel bed, Kael's body pressing into hers like he needed to memorize every inch. Clothes came off in a tangle, and soon it was just skin and breath and the sound of two hearts trying not to break.
He made love to her like it could be the last time—slow, consuming, reverent. His mouth traced her scars, his fingers held her together, and when he whispered her name against her neck, Aria cried.
Not out of sadness.
But because this was real.
Afterward, they lay tangled in each other, hearts still pounding.
"Kael," she said, her head on his chest. "What if we run out of time?"
"Then let's spend every second like it's sacred."
She nodded. "Then tell me everything. No more secrets."
And so he did.
He told her about the first symptoms, the clinics, the whispers from nurses too afraid to speak out. He told her about the trial, the injections, the sleepless nights. The way his body sometimes burned from the inside, the way he couldn't feel his fingertips in the mornings. The dreams that didn't feel like dreams—visions, flashes of memories that didn't belong to him.
"They gave me someone else's death," he said. "That's what it feels like. Like I'm dying a hundred different ways that were never meant to be mine."
She held his face in her hands, eyes glassy. "You are still you."
"For now."
There was a knock at the door.
Kael stiffened instantly. Aria felt him reach beneath the bed where he'd stashed the folder.
"Don't move," he whispered.
She held her breath as Kael crept to the door and looked through the peephole.
Then he exhaled.
"It's Jace."
He opened the door just enough to let a man inside—tall, with graying hair and a sharp, calculating gaze. He wore a worn leather jacket and carried a weathered messenger bag.
"I told you not to contact me again," the man said.
Kael didn't flinch. "I didn't. You found me."
The man's eyes flicked to Aria, then back to Kael. "She knows?"
"Everything."
"Then she's already in danger."
Aria stood, chin high. "I'm not leaving him."
Jace gave a grim nod. "Then we move fast. You've got a few days at best before they close in."
Kael handed him the folder. "It's all there."
Jace opened it, flipping through the contents, his brows knitting together. "Damn. You weren't kidding."
Kael sat beside Aria, his hand finding hers. "What now?"
Jace looked up. "Now? We make it public. You better be ready to burn every bridge you've ever walked across."
Kael met his gaze. "They already burned mine."